Bring Me Flowers
by TheYummyPencil
Summary: He's her teacher- she's his student- he's uptight- she's laidback- he spins on his toes- she spins on her head- and there are a thousand other reasons why they cannot, should not, will not be. But somehow, despite all rhyme or reason, they are. Blandie!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello, all! Thank you for bothering to click on this fic! I stole the title from 'Bring Me Flowers' by Hope, the song Blake makes Andie dance to (on a totally unrelated note, that slow-mo krumping was awesome) during their first class. I thought that the lyrics were somewhat pertinent to the 'Blandie' pairing; "I haven't got a clue if you're the one/But I like you/And ooh, I like how you make me feel**_**, yada, yada, yada**_**". Was Blake trying to communicate something to Andie? Probably not. But it's a good starting point… **

**Anywho, I am an eternal shipper of 'Mandie' but this might just be my preferred pairing. You'd have to be dead to miss their heat. And while I love her relationship with Moose, I think I have more to sink my teeth into with Blake. **

**So yeah. This is my last fic for the shamefully sparse 'Step Up' archive and I loved writing it. Hope you love reading it…**

_**Bring **_**Me**_** Flowers**_

**Chapter 1: Opposites Distract **

**Blake**

I avoid favoritism like the plague. It just does not do to prize certain students over others. Then again, if I _did_ happen to have a special few under my charge, hypothetically that is, they would be James Francis Whittaker and Andrea West, which is odd considering the two could not be more different.

Jimmy: disciplined, respectful, easy to mold. Andie: raw, petulant, stubborn as a rock. But they stand out and that is valuable in a profession where talent is only one requirement…

I might take my imaginary favoritism a step further and say that I prefer Andie, with all her flaws, to Jimmy, in all his perfection. She is…challenging, to say the least, but it works. It makes me feel like I'm doing more than playing with mannequins.

I probably have Chase to thank for that. But of course, I will never _ever_ actually thank him. The gloating would be unbearable…

_**Andie **_

_Teachers That Suck…_

Lincoln- spits generously when he talks (note to self- _never_ sit in the first row again)

Madame Coquin- insists that we call her that (despite the fact that she's as French as a Big Mac)

Mr. Anderson- accuses me of being a spy sent by Julliard to sabotage them (if only)

Old Nelson– falls asleep randomly in class (once presumed dead)

A week ago, Blake might've topped that list, what with the ego-tripping and hating on The Streets and trying to break my leg in ballet class and expelling me that one time. But he has proved to be less of a jerk than I initially thought. He gave it a chance; he gave us all a chance, and now MSA isn't such a sucky place to be at…

He is _seriously_ uptight, though. I mean, pardon my poetry, but Blake is so tense that the bug up his ass has a bug up _its_ ass. Dude needs to lighten up, maybe _hook_ up.

Chase should look into that…

**Blake**

Lessons like these make me wonder how the_ hell_ she is still here. This 'shaking of the moneymaker' is nowhere near as cute as she thinks it is. All right, it was a little cute the first time but I _cannot_ accept it as a legitimate effort. Even hip-hop requires more technique…

"That is _more_ than enough, Ms. West. Ms. West, stop…Andie!"

She freezes, mid-wiggle. "I am _listening and interpreting_, Blake."

"It's _Director Collins_. Don't think that we're chums just because you're dating my brother."

Andie straightens up and jerks her head to get the hair out of her eyes. "I'm _trying_ to have a little fun. You know, ha, ha, _ha?_ Why so serious, man?"

You see what I mean? She says things like that; stupid, obnoxious things and I know she will never understand how important this is, to me, to my family.

"This is not _fun_, Andie," I attempt through gritted teeth. "This is art, life, and I won't have you making a mockery of it."

"I'm not!" she whines, stretching out with the idleness of a cat. "It's just…ballet is all tutus and tights and twirling to me."

Tutus? Tights?_ Twirling? _"You little heathen." I hiss, crossing my arms. "Have you ever seen or even heard of Coppelia? La Bayadere? Don Quixote? Le Corsaire?" She shrugs. "What about the more commercial hits? The ones any nitwit could Google. Romeo and Juliet, _The Nutcracker?_"

"Hey!" she snorts, taking a step back. "I get that it's hard, okay? I've seen the work that goes into it. What I _don't_ see is the relevance."

The relevance? I could give the insufferable chit a ten-page essay on the relevance of ballet today. But would she read it? Oh, _no_. Ms. West demands a more practical education…

"_All right_. You've shown me your dance culture. Now I'm going to show you mine."

"Show her your _what_, you dirty old man."

The grin on her face and the smirk in his voice is enough for me to know who has just arrived. "Hello, _Chase_," I exhale. "Come to return your girlfriend to the ghetto?" He takes her home after every lesson, even if it means hanging around for two hours. I suppose I should be happy for him. He's never put this much effort into a girl before…

"_Bite me, Blake_."

"It's Director-"

But she has gathered her things and rushed out the door with him before I can finish. _Never mind._ There is a dancer in there somewhere and it is my responsibility, nay my _duty_, as a teacher to chip away until I find her. I think a field trip is in order…

_**Andie **_

I keep telling him that Chase and me are not dating, we are _not_ 'boyfriend and girlfriend'. The guy never listens, or he does but enjoys screwing with me anyway.

It's not that I don't want that, the handholding, the milkshake-sharing, whatever else it means to be in an exclusive relationship. But assumptions are tricky bitches. The fact that we had this one hot kiss in the rain does not mean we're official.

This is a hard-learned lesson courtesy of Tucker Smith. He thought that we were going somewhere and I knew we weren't. Instead of telling him straight out, I danced around the issue (no pun intended), in the hope of saving our friendship (_and_ my place in the 410, I admit).

I won't flatter myself that he was thinking about me when he kicked Chase's ass and trashed Blake's studio. But my 'rejection' can't have helped either way.

Anyway, my point (yeah, I had one) is that I don't want to end up in Tuck's position, waiting for something to happen, realizing that _nothing_ is going to happen, then feeling like a fool…

"So what does Blake really wanna show you?"

"What? Oh. His _dance culture_, whatever that means."

Chase smirks. "Sorry he's such a Nazi."

I shrug. "If Blake wasn't Blake, who would we make fun of?"

I mean it. One big upside of being at MSA is the opportunity to torment its Director. That thing I said earlier about ballet? I just wanted to see him mad. His mouth sets in this crazy thin line and his eyes bulge and his skin goes really pale. He's like some sort of lizard. It's awesome…

"What?" Chase chirps when we've pulled up to the house and I'm halfway out the door. "_No goodbye kiss?_"

I shake my head a little. Where did he learn to be so slick? Definitely not from his Type A brother. Maybe his Dad? Or is he self-taught? Either way it's pretty impressive, and I can't help but smile as I lean in for the-

"Andie? _You've got a phone call_."

Wow. Sarah has such bad timing it's incredible.

Chase laughs at my grimace and looks around me to wave at the woman standing on the porch. She's all smiles as I run up the stairs and once we've waved him off she coos:

"You didn't tell me you had a _boyfriend_."

"He's _not_ my-" I sigh, feeling stupid for blushing. "I have a phone call?"

Sarah shrugs and I jog past her, only to find Charlie on the phone, clucking like a chicken.

"_Gimme that, you little misfit_. Hello?"

There's a beat before: "_Hey, D._ It's Felicia…"

**A/N: Yep! I'm bringing Felicia back. She's a strong character. And a hot chick to boot. She's clearly impressed with the MSA crew during the final scene at The Streets and I think it's possible that she started to miss her friends (dancing and just hanging out with them) after that. **

**So yeah. How do you like our first chapter?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Much appreciated it is…**

_**Ooh, ooh,**_** has anyone heard about 'Moose' taking up the lead role in Step Up 3(D)? That is just too awesome for words! He was easily the most entertaining character and the actor; Adam Sevani definitely has enough talent to carry a movie, should his co-stars (Alyson Stoner?) stagger under the weight of it. So yeah. **_**Seriously**_** excited for that in 2010.**

**Until then, on with the fic! **

**Chapter 2: The Learning Curve**

**Blake**

It may surprise you to find that I am _not_ the life and soul of the party. That title has always belonged to Chase, a most sanguine personality who seems to jazz up every room he walks into. I have never envied him this (the natural order dictates that little brother envies big brother) but now that a party is being forced on me, I would gladly accept a dose of his charm. If only for the night…

"Smile for the camera, Blakey! I said _smile_. This is a birthday, not a root canal."

"_Shut up, Chase_."

"Oh, please do, darling," Cybil coos. "Get his cake in the shot. I baked it myself, you know."

My heart twists as I eye the chocolate mound, alight with thirty candles. There may as well be three for all the babying. I know this will go a long way in helping her guilt, though, so it must be endured.

"Open up your present, why don't you?" Chuck exclaims.

It's a book. "_The Professional's Guide To Amateurs_," I read aloud. "Teaching Technique's for All by F. D Milton."

"To help you manage this influx of 'raw talent' as you deem it," Chuck explains. "I couldn't think of anything that was expensive _and_ useful that you didn't already have. So I settled on useful."

"Very thoughtful, Dad. _Thanks_."

"_My_ present is on its way," Cybil assures.

"You know how I feel about surprises, Mum."

"_You'll like this one_," she asserts. "It'll make up for my absence on the day."

My fear grows as she smiles. That grin bears the same knowing mischief as Chase's. Unlike my brother (who bestowed upon me a pair of pink, diamond-studded ballet slippers), she means well, which is worse.

I hate birthdays…

_**Andie**_

"Guess who called me today."

"Who?"

"Felicia."

"_Who?_"

"_Felicia_. My former best friend and 410 crew member. The one that cracked the 'Sesame Street' joke?"

"_Oh, yeah!_ That was pretty lame as far as disses go. I still cried about it for a week, though."

I snort and shake my head at the long-limbed, curly-haired boy bouncing around the room. Mrs. Alexander invited me over for dinner and with the dishes licked clean and washed (despite Moose's insistence that the licking was enough), we came up here to 'rock out' to Lady Gaga, his latest muse.

"What did she want?"

"To talk to me. About 'all the shit that went down' these past few weeks."

"Do you want to talk to her?"

I shrug. "She's still my best friend, as far as I know."

"And what am I, _chopped liver?_"

"_No_. I _can_ have more than one best friend, whatever Missy says about having a dance off for the title."

"_Good_," he grins, adapting a move from one of Gaga's videos. "I would've beaten her with my ears blocked anyway."

I'll reserve judgment on that one. "So…what do you think? Should we try to reconnect?"

"_Quite frankly_," Moose spins to a stop as the track ends, "she kinda scares me. But she must have _some_ redeeming qualities to have been your friend. And if you still care about her…"

"Course, I _care_. I mean…I love you and Kido and Smiles and Monster…you're all my friends. But the 410 were my family. And if one of them reaches out, the way Missy did, I'm not about to cut their arm off."

"Well, you just answered your question then. _Go for it_."

I grin. Moose can be a real Yoda when he wants to be. "_Thanks_," I say, returning a comic book to its rightful place in his collection and squeezing him goodbye. "See you tomorrow, _Robert_."

"See you tomorrow, _Andrea__!_" he mimics and extends a fist for our now traditional handshake. "Good luck."

Luck. Yeah, I might just need that…

**Blake **

She's distracted all through the lesson, staring at her toes, looking angsty and apprehensive, murmuring to Chase. I didn't bring her back for this. She has to be focused, disciplined, _committed_. Like Jimmy. Just look at him over there. _Look_ at that grade jeté! He's art in motion. And she's still life. What, does she think that I should treat her differently simply because she _is_ different? If so, she has another thing-

You know what? Forget it. I don't want to be the bad guy today. Not today, when I have this whole thing planned. This whole thing that entails an hour trapped in a moving vehicle together.

So I'll hold off. And if the trip doesn't inspire her, nothing will.

"_Ms. West_, I need to speak to you before you zoom off for lunch." Chase and Mr. Alexander stop, too, as if she has them on a leash. "Carry on, you two." They do and as soon as they are out the door she speaks:

"_I know, I know_. I've been on another planet all day and I'm _sorry_. I'll be fine by tomorrow, it's just today-"

"Today, I don't care." Andie's eyebrows fly up and almost disappear under the fringe of hair. Is it _that_ surprising? "I want to talk to you about our tutorial this afternoon."

"Me too-"

"_It's not happening_."

"Really?"

The look of relief on her face is almost more than I can endure. "It's not happening _here_. We're going to do something special. We're going to _see_ something special. Would you like to? I am, of course," I continue, before she can speak, "only asking you out of politeness. I fully intend for you to come along. I've already consulted your guardian, Ms. Walker. She wondered if I was giving you special treatment, not that she minded or anything because for the money she's paying you better be getting as much out of this as possible. _Her words._" Andie smirks. "I said you were a special case. With special needs." I smirk.

"_Gee, thanks, Blake_."

"_No thanks necessary_. Shall we?"

She grimaces and I feel I am clinging to my patience by the teeth now.

"Just…let me make a phone call and we…shall."

Thank God. For a second there I thought she would try to cook up some cockamamie excuse as to why she could not come. That would be intolerable.

I just want her to meet me halfway, you know? I want her to _want_ to learn and understand and appreciate what we are trying to do here. I want her to be a part of it. And that's what every good teacher should want, is it not?

_Yes_. I like to think so…

_**Andie**_

_Felicia- SO SORRY! Cnt make it this aftrnun. MSA's got me all tied up. Cn we try agen 2moro? Pls? Love, D._

I sent this text a half hour ago. Either she hasn't read it yet, or she has and won't reply because I'm an asshole. That thought kind of kills me so I try to block it out, to be happy in this moment; in this slinky silver sports car that Blake drives like he doesn't know how expensive it is.

I wonder if he bought it himself, or if it was a present, like Chase's. It's crazy to think that I could even know people that drive cars like this. I asked Sarah for one for my seventeenth birthday, _any_ one, even a mangy old pick-up truck. I haven't told a joke since to make her laugh as much as that…

"And here…we…_are_."

Here is the Washington Ballet Company, a building that's as big and impressive as it sounds. I think Blake wants me to be all surprised and awed or something. He probably doesn't know that…

"I've been here before."

And now he's trying not to look disappointed. Poor guy. It was cool of him to bring me here anyway. But just looking at the place isn't particularly enlightening…

"You have?" he demands, as the car purrs to a stop. "_When?_"

"_Ten years ago_," I have to laugh, _loud_; otherwise I'm leaving myself open to the possibility of crying. "My Mum brought me for my sixth birthday. To see _The Nutcracker_, go figure."

"Your mother died."

I don't know if it's a statement or a question, but he has this weird look on his face like he expects something. "_Yes, she did_. What's with the look of shock?" I half-smirk. "You thought that I was only _ever_ exposed to street-dancing? I saw a lot growing up. It's just that…hip-hop was the only style that grabbed me."

He's quiet for a while, one hand still tight on the wheel, eyes barely meeting mine. I don't think he's used to knowing this much about his students. It must be weird for him. It's a little weird for me. "_Well_," Blake finally ejects. "I hope that ballet grabs you for the first time today."

"I'm not so sure about that," I caution. "Hip-hop _is_ a jealous lover."

"Ballet is fine with just holding your hand," he jokes. Wow. Blake just joked. Where's the camcorder when you need it?

It turns out that the something special he wanted me to see really _is_ special. They're rehearsing for _Swan Lake_, showing in a few weeks time, and we get to watch because Blake was a principal dancer here and still haunts the place like a friendly ghost. They're pretty cool about me tagging along, too.

"_Andie_, these are our leads, Prince Siegfried and Odette. Also known as Guy Pearce and Anna Cotillard." They both look like something out of a dream, with these beautiful svelte bodies and serene faces and sparkly costumes. And there _I_ am, skulking around like a freaking shoplifter in my tank sweats.

"_This_ is Andie West, my latest protégé/lost cause."

"_That's not very nice, Blake,_" Guy scolds, taking my hand and kissing it like he's never seen a normal handshake before.

"She doesn't deserve _nice_," Blake dismisses and goes on to bitch about me like I'm not there. "Andie has displayed a shameless ignorance on the subject of classical dance. In her words, ballet is nothing but tutus, tights, and _twirling_."

I grimace. "Well, Andie that is _not_ all that ballet entails," Anna asserts. "There's a lot of toe-pointing, too." A bright smile cracks across her face and Blake groans.

"_Don't encourage her_."

"Places, everyone!" someone calls off stage.

"Bye!" I laugh, as Blake steers me back to my seat, silver swans and lighting technicians blurring past…

I feel something like the childish awe I felt with _The Nutcracker_ when I watch _Swan Lake_. The dancers tell this amazing story and they don't need words, just their bodies and the music from the orchestra, who are like, hardcore rock 'n' rollers dressed up as butlers…

There's this heavy disappointment when it all ends, though. I didn't _want_ it to end. We talk to Anna, Guy and a few other cast members for a little while afterward. They have some interesting things to say about their dancing, and why and how I could be as good as them, with passion, discipline and the right teacher (_nudge, nudge, wink, wink_)…

"That was _awesome,_" I admit as we make our way back to the parking lot. "But we should've made it a class trip."

"I would have if the school calendar wasn't set in stone; I couldn't squeeze in a visit to the Washington Ballet Company if I tried. And this was a favor on their part, allowing us to come and watch for free. I didn't want to push my luck and ask them to entertain a whole class. Besides, you are my most desperate case."

"Once again…_thanks_," I remark wryly. "But I think Moose is challenging me for that title."

"Mr. Alexander will never be the next Will Kemp. He's in my class for his creative flair, individuality and _general awesomeness_, as he might say. He will evolve into a contemporary dancer at best." Where his insults end and his compliments begin I can never tell. "So…did you really enjoy it?" he asks. "Did it inspire you? Could you see yourself up there?"

I mull over the questions he's just pelted me with and the sincerity attached to them. It's kind of strange and sad to see him care this much, like it really does mean a lot. I want to tell him what he wants to hear, but I'm as talented an actor as I am a ballerina so he would probably figure me out. "Yes. Yes. And no. I could _not_ see myself up there. Come on, could you? Seriously?"

His forehead crinkles a little as he glances at me. "_No_. I suppose not."

I shrug. "I'll keep trying, though. I don't want to just take up space. I _will_ keep trying."

Blake looks at me, really looks this time and it's kind of intense, like staring at the sun. "I know."

**A/N: If you're familiar with 'Swan Lake' you may notice a few parallels between Blake and Andie, and Prince Siegfried and Odette. They are **_**seriously**_** unintentional! I was Googling up a storm, trying to find a ballet production in Washington that a teacher might take their student to, and this one just fit perfectly with everything I had planned for the story…**

**Also, I'm not sure if ballet productions work like regular theatre productions, with run-throughs and matinee performances and whatnot. And I certainly don't know if a guy like Blake could pull strings to get Andie into a rehearsal. But I figure he's a renowned dancer with a significant amount of cash at hand, so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch. **

**All I really want is for you to enjoy the chapter enough to go along with anything. So did you? DID YOU?!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you to all who reviewed! I wanted to respond to your comments individually but FFN is acting up again. So I thought I'd just reply here…**

**The use of 'Guy Pearce' was **_**not**_** an allusion of any kind to the actor. I just thought it was a cool name! He **_**is**_** hot, though, hehehe… **

**You astute buggers also picked up on the 'Will Kemp' line. Hurray! Coincidentally (and I mean honest to blog **_**coincidence**_**) he was in Swan Lake a while ago. **_**I love him**_**…**

**As for the fate of Chapter 3- 'twas indeed a tragedy! I uploaded the chapter of a different fic that I'm working on right now and posted it as 'Bring Me Flowers'. By the time I realized my mistake it was too late, so I just had to delete it. Very, **_**very**_** sorry about that. I have now uploaded the correct document and I present it to you here! **_**Merci beaucoup…**_

**Chapter 3: Official Girl **

**Blake**

"I was just messing with you, by the way. Ballet is awesome. _You're_ awesome."

"You think so, do you?"

"Duh! You have toes of _steel_. You spin as fast as Monster." I cock a quizzical eyebrow. "_Mr. Rodriguez_."

Well, I suspected as much. She would never pass up an opportunity to aggravate me and it is my own fault for allowing her to. But I really felt as though she needed to learn something and I think she did. I think _I_ did, which was unexpected. My dilemma now is: What do I do with her?

"So why do you dance?"

"Why do I _dance?_ Why do birds sing, why do flowers bloom-?"

"Quit playing around and answer the question!"

"_I'm trying to._ Dance is all I know, all I've been taught. My parents were dancers, _their_ parents were dancers, and some day Chase and I will produce our own tapping, pirouetting-"

"Bee-bopping, pop-locking-"

"_God forbid_- offspring of our own." She nods and I begin to wonder if Andie West will be a part of my life beyond MSA. "I suppose Chase's spawn will be yours_, _too," I remark inquisitively.

"I'm not thinking that far ahead." Fair enough. She is half my age and goes on to remind me: "_You_ must be, though. You're turning The Big Three O in a few days after all. It'd be pretty interesting to see you play Director Dad: 'Balancé, balancé, chassé, pas de boureé, pas de boureé, PAS DE BOUREÉ, YOU LITTLE BASTARDS!'" I sound _nothing_ like that, but Andie laughs out loud at her impersonation anyway.

"_So_…" she gasps when she has come down from her high, "do you two love it or just do it because you were told to?"

Believe you me; I am very much aware of the personal territory we are stumbling into. But she is with my brother and I don't see how their personal could _not_ spill over into our professional relationship. Besides, we are a half hour away from home, maybe more considering the amounting traffic and snack stop she insisted on. Small talk couldn't hurt.

"_Both_, I suppose. Chase was the first to display a flair for it, believe it or not. I required a little more…work. But we both wanted to make them proud, _carry on the family name_. And there was, of course, the competitive aspect. We've been trying to best each other for I don't know how long."

"Well, it all paid off, right? You're _Director Collins_ now."

"_That I am_."

I stuff the words with pride that I only half feel. Don't get me wrong; I love what I do. I'm good at it, _great_ in fact. But inheriting the Maryland School of Arts has never felt like a triumph. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been head of the school, were I not also the oldest son of its founders. The 'n' word (nepotism) springs to mind.

But Andie seems almost impressed and I don't really care to shatter the illusion for her. _Or_ myself…

_**Andie**_

Here's the plan:

Step 1: Leave endless string of sorry messages on Felicia's phone until she replies

Step 2: If Step 1 fails, hope and pray that you have worn her down enough to meet you on Thursday

Step 3: If Step 2 fails, stand outside her house, shrieking her name until she comes out, or gets Mrs. Parker to chase you off

Step 4: If Step 3 fails, hide under the porch of the Parker household and when she walks out, stalk her until she talks to you or calls the cops

Step 5: If all the abovementioned steps fail, give up and move on with your life.

That's how much I care. I know that they're the ones that kicked _me_ out, as opposed to me quitting, but I still feel kind of responsible for the fall out, you know? And I do miss them. Or at least the 'them' that they were before MSA. Initiating Stage 1 now…

"'Sup, West!" Chase quips, winding an arm around my waist as we walk towards the mess hall.

"_Nothin'_," I reply, tucking my phone into my pocket. I won't tell him about Felicia until I know for sure that she's going to be a part of my life again. With her come the 410 (unless she's planning on leaving, fingers crossed) and Chase's bruise from that encounter has only just healed. He might not be for it and that might lead to a fight and I don't want to risk one this early on in our…thing.

"Well, I hope you have _nothin'_ planned for this Friday because we're having a party."

"Blake's thirtieth?"

"Yep. And _you're_ invited."

"_Very cool_. Should be an interesting night."

"What do you mean by _interesting?_"

I shrug. "It'll just be weird to see Director Collins play _Blake_ for a night, you know? Outside of school, with his friends and family."

"Oh, like it makes any difference to you!"

"What? _It does_," I insist, though I'm not sure how true that is. "I know where the line is between Ms. West, _student_, and Andie, _Chase's_…"

I go quiet so fast you'd think I literally stuck my foot in my mouth.

"Chase's what?" he smirks and there's this wild urge to punch his lights out.

"_Friend_," I mutter and push through the doors ahead of him. "Chase's friend." The MSA crew (plus a new, consciously out-of-place addition) yells and waves as soon as we emerge onto the food court.

I throw myself down next to Moose, desperate for a distraction, while Chase puts his backpack and tray down and strikes up a conversation with Sophie. The bastard smirks all the way through lunch…

**Blake **

"Have fun for me, darling!" Cybil implores and kisses my cheek hard, before transferring her affection to Chuck. He's almost in tears. This is the longest period of time they have ever been apart and they hate it.

I, on the other hand, could not be happier for her going away before the revelry ensues. Color me callous, but she transforms into the most unbearable society mistress with a ball gown on and a drink in hand. She'll do more good for the world, training ten-year-old Russian dancers than barking orders at American caterers, that's for sure…

"So what was my surprise again?"

She smirks and hands her luggage over to Chuck for the carousel. "If I _told_ you it wouldn't be a-"

"I am _not_ above sending it back if it's something ridiculous."

"_Blake_," she warns.

"_Cybil_," I mimic.

"Don't call me that! You may be a big boy with the keys to your own school, but I am _still_ your mother."

"_I'm aware_. Just wanted to show you how irritating it can be when people say your name like that." I kiss her cheek again, not wanting to part on a sour note. "I've got to get back to work. Have a good flight. _Dad?_"

Chuck clings to her hand for a few seconds longer, before kissing it and stepping away. We wave to her for an embarrassingly long time and once she's out of sight my father sniffs:

"What will we do without her?"

"_Celebrate_." He shoots me an indignant look. "That was a _joke_, Dad. I _do_ joke from time to time." Unsuccessfully it seems. "_Come on_. I'll take you home…"

Let me make this clear: I love my parents wholeheartedly. And when I think of Andie's tragedy, I'm grateful to still have them. But it is difficult to be treated as their child _now_, when I spent more than half of my life as their student. This I could never divulge to Ms. West, or my younger brother for that matter, but it _would_ be helpful to hear someone say that feeling this way doesn't make me a bad seed…

By the end of lunch I'm back at MSA and glad for it. I fit into the role of Director Collins with an ease and comfort that I rarely ever feel as-

"_Blake!_"

I halt before my office, as if her exclamation has physically grabbed me, and turn. "It's Director-"

"Thanks for inviting me to your _shindig_."

"_Chase wanted you there_."

She nods and hooks her thumbs into the straps of her backpack. "Well, I just wanted to ask if I could bring a plus one? Is your guest list set in stone?"

According to Cybil, it is. But Cybil isn't here. "You can bring a friend. _Provided that they don't have a criminal record_," I add as forethought.

Andie snorts, before turning on her heel and jogging off to afternoon lessons.

Oh, God, I hope she knows that I was serious…

_**Andie**_

Basketball acoustics never bugged me before; the scrape of sneakers against bone-dry court, the yelling and cheering of the players, the ball thumping out this never-ending rhythm…but today they do. Bug me, I mean. _Seriously_ bug me and I wish Felicia hadn't named this as our meeting point. It's just not a particularly chilled environment. The fact that we used to rehearse here doesn't help any…

Skins have just scored against Shirts and I'm clapping half-heartedly when:

"_Didn't think you'd show_."

Her hands are shoved in the pockets of her jeans (I miss borrowing those, might actually have to _buy_ a pair if this falls through) as she walks up to me and she's got this pokerface on that is textbook perfection. I have no idea where her head is at right now.

"I didn't think _you_ would either," I say, pushing off the low wall we used to sit on. "That was kind of cold…not replying to my message."

Felicia shrugs. "Wanted to see if you'd still put yourself out."

I shrug. "I did. So…"

"_See ya_," she fills in, turns on her heel and walks away.

"What? _No_. Felicia!" I jog up to her and have to maintain this weird trot-walk to keep pace with her stride. "What's the problem?"

"_If you have to ask,_" she mutters.

I frown and stop suddenly, like a brick wall just sprung up in front of me. "Hey, why am _I_ the one chasing here?" I demand, because I honestly want to know and because it's something that will grab her attention. "You turned on _me._"

She whips round, eyes narrowed. "_Don't_ get it twisted, D. _We_ took you in. _We_ gave you a chance, way before MSA. You chose _them_ over _us_. You did it then, showin' up late for rehearsals, and you're doing it now, holdin' me off like I'm some sort of chump. And _stop_ hiding behind Sarah!" she ejects when I try to speak up. "MSA and Texas were _not_ your only options. You coulda stayed with _any_ of us."

"Yeah, right!" I say and it sounds a lot harsher than I wanted it to. "Like you all don't have enough problems of your own."

"You're family! You _are_ our problem."

"Well, Sarah and Charlie are my family, too, or at least the closest thing to it. They're home for me. Sure, I don't want to be there sometimes and I miss my Mum _all the time_…but I care about them."

Felicia crosses her arms. "You know, I'm not even supposed to be talking to you right now? If Tuck finds out-"

"_If Tuck finds out_. What is he, your dad? The worst he can do is kick you out. _I_ survived that. And you _know_ you're better off without him. The last I heard he was trashing schools and ambushing strangers."

She shakes her head. "It's easy for you to talk now that you're on the outside looking in. You have a nice, cushy place at MSA. What do _I_ fall back on?"

"_Me_." She tries to scoff, but it's more like a sigh. "_Missy_…and a whole bunch of other people that'll love you if you let them see who you are."

"And how do I do that?"

"For a start…come to this party tomorrow. It's Chase's brother's…you know Chase, right? Tall, yellow jacket, partial to kisses in the rain?" She nods and smirks a little, like she knew all along. "It's his brother's birthday. They said I could bring a friend. So…"

Her face sets again, like a slab of concrete, and she deadpans: "I don't have anything dressy to wear."

"Well…I know this Latina chick that could hook us both up."

She doesn't say anything for a good solid minute and I know that the next words out of her mouth will be make-or-break. "_Cool_," she utters, cracking a little smile. "Let's give her a call…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thank you to my one reviewer! And to all who continue to read (please be generous with your con-crit if you have anyway, you should enjoy this as much as I do). I know the Blandie romance doesn't seem imminent. I just want them to build a friendship before they tumble head-over-heels into anything. But it **_**is**_** coming. And when it does…well. ****I think you'll like it ;P**

**For the despicably long wait (may you never experience Internet access as scarce and below-par as what we have in the Third World), I was going to post back-to-back chapters. But I got held up and had to post it today instead. Please do read and review… **

**Chapter 4: Bring Me Flowers **

**Blake**

My Friday nights usually consist of dinner with friends, drinks with a colleague, or a DVD with condiment-free popcorn…fairly low-key activities that help me unwind from the pressures of the past week.

But not _this_ Friday night. _This_ Friday I have to put on a party hat and mill around the Collins' humble home, hobnobbing with guests that seem more like trespassers. All in the name of a celebration that I still don't understand (I'm getting old. Hurray?)…

Then again, there are a few highs among the lows. Chase steps up to actually help, retrieving the tuxes from the dry cleaner's and the cake from the baker's and the knives from the volatile caterers. Chuck is MIA all day, making sure that Cybil's 'surprise' arrives safe and sound.

It makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, I must admit, to know that people do care. For their sakes at least, I should pretend _not_ to hate it. But if they ask me to blow out those damn candles again…

_**Andie **_

"_Well, look what the chica dragged in._"

Felicia shrugs at Missy, who fluffs her hair up and leans against the porch railing like she doesn't give a shit. I know she does, but the diva will have to put up a fight before she even thinks about forgiving and forgetting.

"Took you a while to defect, din't it?"

"I haven't _defected_. But I figured I could be cool with you _and_ the 410 if I kept it quiet."

"Well, I donno about _that_. Your _associates_ have this thing for violence lately. And that ain't _cool_ with me, if you don' mind my sayin'." Felicia nods and Missy sighs exaggeratedly, her shoulders rising and falling with the action.

"Whatchu think, D?"

"I think that we were _friends_ before we were crew-members," I say, glancing between them. "And just because some of us aren't in the 410 anymore, doesn't mean _we_ can't still be tight."

My words just kind of hang on the silence for a while and I start to wonder if they've fallen on deaf ears…but then Missy throws open her arms and jumps down the steps.

"_Damn, _I missed you, girl!"

I laugh out loud as they almost trip down the last two, hugging the life out of each other.

"You don't _know_ how tired I get, listenin' to this one goin' on about _MSA this and MSA that_!"

"_What?_" I exclaim. "When do I ever go on about anything?"

"I'm just playin'!" she dismisses, throwing an arm around my shoulder and dragging me into it. "Now tell me…what is this _fabulous_ do y'all are goin' to without me?"

I tell her about Chase's birthday, and say sorry for only being able to bring one friend, and point out that we need something seriously classy, because this is 'MSA royalty' we're talking about. That's when Felicia slams on the brakes.

"_Hold up_. You didn't tell me Chase's brother was the head of MSA."

"Does it matter?"

"Hell yes, _it matters_. Forget the fact that I've _obviously _never been to a party with silverware and…_seating plans_. He won't want me there once he finds out where I'm from."

"Felicia, _chill_. I've never been to anything like this either." She gives me a look that says it's not the same. Maybe it isn't, but… "Blake won't _care_ that you're in the 410. It's not like you had anything to do with the attack." I try to keep the doubt out of my voice as I add: "_Right?_"

"_Right_," she replies as soon as the question is out. "I didn't even watch the prank that got Tuck so mad in the first place."

"Oooh, girl, you gotta!" Missy exclaims. "It was _dope_." And she tosses a white blouse to her. "Try this on with the black pants. And take that damn hat off; we gotta do your hair. D, this'll work for you."

My heart shrivels a little at the sight of the dress. This one is black, shorter than the first and dotted with rhinestones. _Girly_, just how I don't like it.

"Aw, look at the pair o' you! All grown up whicha titties poppin' out!" We stare down in horror and she snorts. "Kiddin', kiddin'. Y'all look good. _Have fun at the ball_…"

**Blake **

The party is in full swing and it feels like the fundraiser all over again, except that there's nothing to be gained this time (which reminds me: conference call with potential French donor). Well, a hangover seems likely, considering the rapidity with which I down every flute of champagne I see.

Chuck is schmoozing with the partygoers, Chase is setting up the film reel Cybil put together, and friends are scattered around the room, having smothered me with more than enough attention.

I find myself drifting through aimlessly, until a hand lands on my shoulder, anchoring me, and a voice pours into my ears:

"_Surprise!_"

Oh, God. "_Edie?_" I spin round and sure enough… "What _the hell_ are you doing here?" A light bulb seems to flicker to life above my head before the question is even out. "_You're_ my mother's surprise?" Beaming red lips part to speak…

"_Hey, Blake!_" Andie's jogging over, something she does a lot better in sneakers than in heels. It occurs to me that Andie West is wearing _heels_ and wearing them well, with a dress that confirms the existence of legs beneath her sweats. But this new arrival almost pales in comparison…_"_I want you to meet- oh. _Sorry_. Am I interrupting something?"

My head snaps back so fast I may just have given myself whiplash. "No. Nothing. _Let's dance_."

"Huh?" I grab her hand and drag her onto the dance floor. "Blake, what the-?"

I draw her to me with more force than is necessary and we collide awkwardly.

"_Sorry_-"

"_Sorry_-"

I exhale and rest my hand on her side with what I hope looks like poise and dignity. She responds, somewhat confusedly, with a hand on my shoulder. Free hands clasped, we coast across the floor, my eyes trained over her head to spot Edie, to make sure she isn't just a dream/nightmare/practical joke. When did she get here? _How?_ Chuck and Cybil, of course, trying to fix my life and making an even bigger mess of it as a result…

"_I hate this_."

"Well, jeez, Blake. I'm not one for _waltzing_, but I try."

"Not _this_," I mutter, trying to sway her to the other side of the floor. "I don't hate…" Her hair looks nice. You know, when it's not bound in a ponytail or wet and ropey. "It's the party, the people, the obligation. I hate birthdays."

"You hate birthdays? Why do you _hate_ birthdays?"

"Because they're as mind-numbingly pointless and commercial as every other ritual we put our friends and family through on an annual basis."

"_Wow_."

"I only speak the truth."

"The truth?" She's frowning. I must have offended her somehow. "_The truth_ is that these people are here for you. They didn't have to turn up, but they did. That has to mean something."

"It _means_ that they like free cake."

"It means that they're happy you're _alive_. God, have you always been a cynical ass?"

"Not always."

Andie stares up at me, intently, like she's looking for the answers to some test, and treads on my toes as a result. She apologizes but I barely hear it. The fact that I am dancing with this girl, outside of class, outside of my second skin, has become sharply, painfully clear, and all of a sudden she seems too close. She _is_ too close; her hand in mine and her body against mine and the smell of her hair fogging up my head and when is this fucking instrumental going to _end?_

"_The hot-read is staring at us_." I rearrange my thoughts long enough to appear unmoved. "Who is she? You were talking to her before I so rudely interrupted."

"You weren't interrupting anything. I don't know her."

Her disbelief is clear, but if she wants to push any further she doesn't get the chance.

The music cuts, the guests disperse, and Chuck announces dinner…

_**Andie**_

So now would probably be the right time to introduce Felicia. It was the right time five minutes ago, but I got a little sidetracked by him and his stalker chick and the dancing that resulted. I know it was just a ploy to get away from her (note to self: bug Blake about this later), but I liked it. I mean I got to see 'Blake Collins' close up and he was different. He _felt_ different. Being outside of MSA is good for him…

Shit, why am I standing here, watching him network? Felicia and Chase are probably still waiting in the living room. Felicia _and_ Chase. The first words out of her mouth when she met him were an apology that he asked her to take back, like a crappy Christmas present or something. He is as cool about her being here as he is about everything and so she tries to relax. _Tries_ to…

"_I don't have a place card_."

"Don't worry about it," Chase dismisses from his place across the long dinner table. "You weren't on the list so they just made room for you next to Andie." He says that like it was nothing but there's a lack of symmetry that's making her want to pull back. A little wine might ease the tension, but the waiters seem to know where the underaged are…

"_A toast!_" Mr. Collins calls from his end of the table, silencing the room. Mr. Collins is a _seriously_ nice guy, looks a lot like Chase, with the height and the smile and the knack for irritating Blake. "To our _other_ favorite son." Blake tries to smile, tries _not_ to look at the redhead that's still looking at him, just a few seats away. "Who makes us so proud, every day, week, month and year of his life." Hm. He really does _look_ different right now, like a guy that loves and is loved more than the Maryland School of Arts. "Blake, we wish nothing but the best for you. _Happy birthday_."

"_Here, here!_" Chase exclaims and makes a big show of tapping his glass against his brother's, before reaching across for Felicia's and mine. We all sit and the servers swoop in with the 'first course'…

"Pardon me, Miss…you look vaguely familiar. Have we met?"

My gaze breaks from Chase's, as if Blake's words physically cut through. He's taking to Felicia and I remember that I forgot to introduce them…

"I wouldn't say _met?_" Felicia replies. "We ran into each other. _Literally_. My hat fell off and you picked it up and apologized. It was at The Streets last week."

"Really?" says Chase. "_Wow_. Must've been after our performance." And after he un-expelled me. I have this brief and totally unrelated mental flash of Blake going back to the fundraiser that night, soaked to the skin…

"Oh, so _you're_ Andie's friend. Did you dance with these two?"

"Uh…no. I was- I _am_ a member of their rival crew."

His eyes narrow and my breathing hitches a little. _Please be cool. Please be cool_… "Your _crew_ wouldn't happen to the notorious 410, would it?"

"You've heard of us, huh?" she remarks, trying to grin.

"I watch the local news," he replies, his expression stone cold. "You are celebrities of a sort. Can't say I was particularly grateful for your _autograph_ on my school, though."

"_Blake_-" Chase and I try to interject.

"So I assume you were planning on trashing my parent's house, too? Perhaps beating up the maid? It would fit your _modus operandi_, wouldn't it?"

"What the hell is your problem?" My voice carries further than I expected but it's kind of hard to care.

"D, _don't_." She has this way of saying things sometimes, almost too quiet to hear, but you listen anyway. So I bite my tongue and let her speak. "He's _obviously_ made up his mind about me and gettin' mad won't change it. Thanks for havin' me and all…but I should go."

And she does. I could sit here all night, giving him a chunk of my mind, but I don't want her to walk out alone, so I follow. Chase comes after us, offering a ride and the apology of at least one Collins.

"Believe it or not, Blake isn't typically like that. He's just touchy about the studio and the cost of the repairs, and he _knows_ you weren't responsible, and I can _guarantee_ you he will feel bad about this tomorrow…look, let me take you home. Please?"

Neither of us is about to turn down a free ride, so we shuffle to his car. On the way out of their neat, well-lit neighborhood, all I can think about is the 'Jekyll and Hyde' he pulled back there.

Looks like it's going to be a rocky Monday morning with Director Collins.

**A/N: **_**Heh**_**. I think Blake was even more of an asshole in that chapter than I wanted him to be. But y'all know (and just as importantly **_**Andie**_** knows) that deep, **_**deep**_** down inside, a sweet and vulnerable heart beats. Sooner than later the layers shall be peeled away and all revealed.**

**Now. Share thoughts!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Dudes and dudettes! I have **_**never**_** experienced a response this positive, for a Step Up fic, or any other fandom. It fills me with the warm fuzzies and reaffirms that fact that 'Blandie' is a ship to be reckoned with! **_**Thankee sai…**_

**If you haven't already, check out StarlitDreams' fic "Forbidden" or Megara's "Her New Life". I'm sure they're others worth reading that I haven't found yet! **

**Chapter 5: Just Because **

**Blake**

The abrupt departure of the three seated closest to me did _not_ go unnoticed. It might have been excruciating, sitting through the rest of dinner alone, but bulletproof, self-righteous anger saw me through…

Look, I don't know for sure that this 'Felicia' was involved in what happened (the police would have been summoned if I did), but there _is_ such a thing as guilt by association. Conversely, there is also _honor_ by association and Andie has proven herself honorable. Perhaps her friend deserved the benefit of the doubt. Either way there's nothing to be done about it…except apologize.

But an apology is an admittance of imperfection, inadequacy. It requires humility and I left mine to die on the steps of the school, years ago…

"_You're late, Ms. West_."

"_I'm aware._"

As her teacher, I shouldn't let that slide, especially not in front of the others. But as her…friend (?) I can't bring myself to respond.

I might have overreacted that night. I might have seemed angry with them, when it was really the party, Edie, above all. Some time after dinner I worked up the courage to ask her to go and she tried to, but Chuck insisted she stick around, for him and Cybil, if no one else. So I left. I walked out of my own birthday party. Needless to say I have never been _less_ popular than I am right now…

"_First session of the week after lunch_."

"_Whatever_."

I had something new in mind for today, but she will make a big show of not caring. She's going to participate regardless. I will _not_ let our personal connection compromise our professional relationship. I can only juggle the two for so long before one has to give way to the other.

It should be easy enough to decide which. It should be…

_**Andie **_

"It's not gonna work, D. You got this new life; new school, new man, new _friends_. I don't fit in."

"_Of course_, you do. Felicia, don't let stuck-up assholes like Collins get you down. MSA is a _pin-sized_ part of my life and it's _not_ gonna hurt our friendship. So dinner at my house tomorrow, you, me, Missy, okay?" Her eyes wander for a while, like she's looking for the answer. "_Hello?_" I prod. "Is that all right with you? Can I get an 'Amen'?"

"…_All right_."

"I'm sorry, _what?_"

"All right!" I grin and she punches my shoulder. "_Brat_. I've gotta get to rehearsals. You go eat your tofu dogs and wood chips and whatever else they serve up in there. I'll catch you tomorrow."

She jogs down the steps and across the street, just as the doors swing open behind me and Chase steps out.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah. No thanks to Blake."

He pouts and throws an arm around my shoulder, leading me back into the school. I try to hold back on the bitching because he _is_ his brother…but he is also a colossal douche. Just thinking about him makes me mad, so I try to stuff him in a shoebox in the corner of my mind and focus on shiny, happy things…like the MSA crew. They're all in high spirits and Sophie's trying to join in, but I think she yearns for her own table of robot ballerinas. She really seems to want to cultivate this thing with Moose, though, so she sticks around…

It's about time _he_ steps up, too. As far as I know, Sophie made the first move, so she, not unlike me, is clueless about the status quo. And Moose, not unlike Chase, seems to enjoy dragging his heels. But then that's just how he is; forever slow on the uptake when it comes to lovey-dovey stuff. Chase has no excuse. I mean he's not exactly new to this, right?

The bell blares over our heads and I realize that I completely zoned out of lunch.

"_Enjoy your lesson_."

I grimace at him and get up, biting off a chunk of my condiment-covered tofu dog as I go. It's as tasty as a Styrofoam cup, but I need the energy if I'm going to make it through an hour with Dictator Collins…

**Blake **

"You do know that you have ketchup on your face?"

Andie drops her bag with an obnoxious thud and shrugs, which suggests she doesn't care. I assume that she does, but will do nothing about it in the spirit of rebellion. I hate to risk the sleeve of my sweater, but she looks foolish and it's only a small (albeit noticeable) smudge, so I reach out to the corner of her lip. Said lip twists into a scowl as I pull back.

"You do know that I don't like you right now?"

"_Can't imagine why_."

"_Really_."

"Might it have something to do with your plus one?" I ask, stretching out and gesturing for her to do the same.

She folds her arms, willing to have her muscles knot up like pretzels, just to defy me. "Her name is _Felicia_. She's one of my best friends."

"Well, you should reconsider the company you keep," I snap, almost involuntarily. The walls of the studio are still blemished by graffiti. Barely two feet of mirror were left unscathed. "Because as far as I can recall, _she_ was part of the group that vandalized my school; that attacked my brother. So you'll forgive me if I wasn't too thrilled about her being there." Andie says nothing (which can't mean she has nothing to say) and the silence is more unsettling than any argument. "_We're done talking about this_. Have you been practicing?" She nods. "Show me." She does.

"_You're sickling again_." Andie shrugs, her face as still and unfriendly as a frozen lake. "There should be no curve," I begin robotically, descending to one knee, "disrupting-" As soon as I touch her leg she kicks out like a mule.

"_I know_."

"Do it _right_ then." She shrugs and I get up, feeling my patience fracture. "Keep in mind that you were taken off the street- _the streets_- like a stray. You can't afford to have an attitude about _anything_."

If looks had any physical effect she would have blasted my head into a million bloody pieces. And I know she'll regret the next words out of her mouth. Probably not as much as I will, but… "Fuck you, _Director Collins._"

She strides past me, towards the door.

"_Andie_…"

My hand jerks out to grab hers.

"_Let go_."

"I can't do that."

"_Why?_ It was easy enough the first time, wasn't it?"

She was an experiment the first time, a pet project, and a challenge from Chase. But now… "You're angry. So am I. But I am also the adult here and I am taking charge. Neither of us is leaving until we get this _right_. Is that understood?"

It seems that Ms. West will not deign to reply so I steel myself and let her go. Our arms drop to our sides like two halves of a severed chain and I wait, knowing that whatever I say, the decision is hers. I can't make her do anything, never could. She knows that…

"_Understood_."

And she'll stay anyway.

I exhale. "_All right_."

_**Andie **_

I would rather tie-dye my favorite tank top than admit it, but I'm glad that he stopped me. I was going to walk out, regardless of the fact that there was nowhere else to go. MSA is it for me, my last chance for something bigger and better, something that would make my Mum (and yeah, Sarah) proud.

I like my life right now, even with Blake in it…

"_Good_. That works nicely."

I want to glare, but it's hard to focus on being mad when you're all wrapped up in new choreography. He crafted the routine to accommodate different styles, so we came up with this lyrical hip-hop/contemporary ballet hybrid. I can barely see myself in the mirrors so there's no telling how well it really works, but it feels good…

By the end of the lesson I am jonesing to see Chase and Moose (hell, even Sophie) try on the steps. Maybe we could test them at The Dragon next week…or at The Streets next year…

"_That'll be all for today_." My dreams of blazing glory die down pretty quickly at the sound of his voice. Being in the studio makes it hard to ignore the risks involved…

"_Thanks_," I mutter, dragging on my jacket and trying to stretch the tension out of my arms without him noticing. "See you tomorrow." I'm two feet from the door when he murmurs:

"I do regret my behavior last Friday." I stop and turn. He's not looking at me, opting to take his time packing up instead. "It had little to do with you and your friend. There was a lot going on and I…lashed out."

I take a step forward, head tilted to catch the expression on his face. "Well, it's Felicia you should be apologizing to."

"_That wasn't an apology_." I roll my eyes, ready to leave again, but then: "I couldn't, even if I wanted to. We'll never find ourselves in the same social circle again."

"_Not true_," I assert. "We're having dinner at my house tomorrow. She'll be there. _You_ should be, too. You don't have to stay," I add, when he finally looks at me, eyebrow arched. "Just say hi, bye and I'm sorry for being such an ass. All right?"

"Couldn't I say that over the phone?"

"_No_. You have to say it to her face, _humble yourself_. All right?"

He obviously isn't big on being told what to do, but he restrains his pride and nods. "_All right_."

I bite back a grin and nod. "See you tomorrow, Blake…"

**A/N: Another dinner this time, **_**sans**_** silverware and seating plans. I think Blake needs to catch a glimpse on Andie's world, too…**

**Review?! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Very little happens in this very long chapter, but it's still worth reading for 'Blandie' bonding and the story behind Edie!**

**Hope you enjoy…**

**Chapter 6: Family Matters **

**Blake **

"I can't believe _you're_ gonna set foot in her house before I do."

"Well, just offend someone she cares about and you're in, too."

"_Yeeaaahhh_…I should probably just wait for an invitation."

"Probably."

Chase smirks and shakes his head, before turning back to his grilled cheese sandwich. It boggles the mind how he can ingest this toxic waste and stay in shape. We had a nutritionist/cook once, a real culinary Hitler. But then I left for London, leaving _him_ with Chase. To this day we have no idea what tactics he employed to get rid of the guy…

"_Speaking of Andie_."

"Mm-hm?"

"I was wondering-"

Any philosophical musings he had to share about Andie West are interrupted by my ringtone.

"'_Bring Me Flowers_'?"

"_Shut up_. It's a good-"

"_Hey, don't answer that_." My thumb freezes over the keys. "Dad gave Edie your digits." I stare down at the screen and realize that the number is unfamiliar. "Might be her." I switch over to Ignore.

"_Thank you_," I murmur. "All right…I've got to go get ready for this thing."

"Get ready? You'll be there for like, five minutes."

"Yes, well…don't you have homework to do? _Do your homework_."

"Sir, yes, _sir!_" Chase salutes and stomps his foot, before marching over to the kitchen island and settling down to binge. I roll my eyes and walk out before he starts talking with his mouth full…

_**Andie**_

"What _is_ this? You never cook this crap for us."

"That's because this is complicated, _expensive_ crap."

"Sarah, you don't have to go all out."

"Well, what did you eat at his house?"

"Hm…" I hum, leaning against the counter. "_We_ left after the Ratatouille, but I heard _something_ about Cilantro Chicken with avocado and…tomato salsa? And roast duck with sweet chutney something…oooh, and _molten lemon cake_…" I drift off wistfully and Sarah clears her throat, snapping me back to reality. "But that's whatever. He's not staying for dinner."

"Well, I don't want him walking in and catching us with greasy chicken bones in our hands and greens in our teeth."

I snort and pat her shoulder, just as a knock sounds against the door. "_That's them_," I grin, jogging out into the hallway.

I yank open the door and…it's not them. "You're early."

"I am?" Blake frowns, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"_You are_. Felicia isn't here yet."

"_Oh_." He glances around unsurely. "Well, if you could just tell her I stopped by-"

"_No,_" I snap, grabbing his arm and dragging him over the threshold. "You can wait."

I shut the door and, in the quiet that follows, realize that he's probably never been to a neighborhood like this, or a house like this. He seems out of place, with his crisp, clean jacket and starched, white shirt, but _I _end up looking and feeling self-conscious.

"_Welcome_," I shrug, walking past with my hands in my pockets. Why did this seem like such a good idea before?

**Blake**

It's a smallish place, cluttered, but not without charm. I'm about to ask after her guardian, when a tiny person, clad in black, leaps down from the staircase and flies at me. "Hi-_ya!_" he exclaims, kicking my leg.

"What-?!"

"Charlie, give it a rest!" Andie exclaims, dragging him away as he aims furious fists at my torso. "Sorry, he's in this…ninja phase…"

"_Ninja phase?_" I grimace, rubbing my shin.

"Yeah, it was pirates a few weeks ago…now it's…hey! _Crouching Tiger_. Look at me." The little boy stills as she grabs his shoulders and looks him in the eye. "Director Collins is _not_ a bad guy. Apologize."

Without a word of protest he turns and pulls off his ski mask, to reveal a disarmingly innocent face. "_Sorry_."

"That's all right," I murmur and extend a hand. "Greetings, Crouching Tiger. I'm Blake."

"_Hi_," he grins and slaps his palm against mine.

"_Okay_," Andie kisses his head and steers him back up the stairs. "Go color or something." She watches him go and I watch her watch him, until she turns back and grimaces. "_Sorry_. You want to meet Sarah?"

Ms. Walker looks exactly like she sounds: strong, smart, and busy. She smiles absentmindedly when Andie introduces me, rubs her hands on her apron and reaches out to shake my hand.

"I've heard a lot about you."

"_Don't believe a word of it_."

"_No, no_," she chuckles. "Andie thinks very highly of you."

I glance at her. She purses her lips and looks away. If I didn't know better I'd say she was blushing…

"You must be confusing me with my brother," I remark wryly.

"I don't think s-"

"_Sarah._ One of your science projects is boiling over."

The woman curses under her breath and turns back to the stove. Andie gestures for us to go and I follow to the living room. Some music program is blaring on TV and she asks me if I want to watch anything.

"Not particularly, no."

Andie exhales and throws her arms up, as if out of ideas. "Well, let's talk then." She flops down on a couch and pats the spot next to her.

"What about?" I ask, sitting at what seems like a reasonable distance.

"_Your ex-girlfriend_," she says matter-of-factly.

My heart plummets to the vicinity of my stomach. "How did you-?"

"I didn't!" she smirks. "_You just told me_." I scowl. "So what's her name, why is she your ex, and are you still in love with her?"

"None of that is your business."

"Yeah, whatever." She props her elbow on the back of the chair, her chin on her hand and purses her lips inquisitively. "_So_…?"

I could…_should_ put up a fight…but she would win. "Her name is Edie." Or I would throw in the towel, because really, the promise of getting this off my chest is irresistible. "She's my ex because she wanted to be. And I _was_…hopelessly in love with her."

"Where did you meet?"

I hesitate, unsure about baring my soul to a teenager. But trying to talk to my parents has taught me that age does not always equal wisdom. Maybe Andie could be one of the few that actually gets it…"The Royal Ballet School. She was easily the most talented- not to mention beautiful- dancer in my year, on her way to becoming a Principal Ballerina. I was in _awe_. I tried and failed to talk to her over the next six months. It turned into a bit of a running joke for my friends…"

Andie grins and it's an oddly heartening gesture. "How did you finally get her to notice you?"

"I danced my ass off. It's a very effective form of courtship, as you probably know." This time I am absolutely sure that she's blushing. Countless members of the Chase Collins Fan Club have turned that exact shade of red and I find myself a little disappointed. Still. It suits her…

"So you got together, dated for a few years…what went wrong?"

"No idea. I thought I'd fallen for the right person, in the right place, at the right time. I was going to move to London, marry her, start this new life, new family…"

"And she didn't think the same."

"She did _not_…and made that clear by jumping my roommate's bones," Andie cringes and bites her lip, as if restraining a response. I appreciate the effort. "So I limped back to Baltimore and accepted the position my parents had been offering me since Director Gordon decided to resign."

She nods, seemingly absorbing this extensive history. "So…she kind of changed your life, huh?"

"Yes. But not in the way I wanted. To have her back is unsettling…maddening."

"Because now you're all about the 'What ifs'?" I nod. "Well…_if_ you married Edie and stayed in London, you wouldn't have been there for my audition. And Chase probably wouldn't have convinced whoever _was_ there to give me a place. And I'd be in Texas right now, instead of here. _Sorry_, Blake, but I'm really happy you got dumped!"

I roll my eyes and look away, because I don't want to gratify her with a smile. Truth be told, I'm happy, too. Happy to be here, to know her and to have her in my life.

Or at least the part of her that doesn't belong to Chase…

_**Andie**_

To be honest, I am totally fascinated by the idea of this other Blake, a Blake my age, with friends and a crush and dreams that didn't quite come true. I want to hear more, know more, but then there's a knock at the door.

"_That's them_," I mutter and get up off the couch.

Missy is taking up the whole doorway, Felicia trying to push in around her.

"Girl, I am _starved!_" she says, whipping off her shades and giving me a hug. "What's Sarah cookin' u-? _Ay dios miho._ Who is _this?_" she asks, toying with her hair and slinking past me, towards Blake. He stands and holds out his hand for shaking. Missy holds out hers for kissing he grips it awkwardly. I clear my throat, trying not to laugh.

"Blake, this is my friend, Missy Serrano."

"_Enchantée._"

"And Felicia Parker."

Blake steps away from Missy eagerly and shakes hands with Felicia. "_Hi_. I'm Blake Collins. You might remember me? I'm the asshole that pre-judged you at that party a few days ago."

"Yeah, I thought you looked familiar."

"What, _he's_ the Director?" Missy throws in. "But he's like, _not old_. And fine!"

"_Missy!_" I exclaim, covering my rapidly reddening face. Blake just blinks, like he's concussed or something, and I feel this pang of protectiveness for him. "Director Collins is _not_ staying. He just came to-"

"Dinner's served!"

We smell the dish before we see it and Sarah puts it down on the neatly laid table. Distracted for a minute, we abandon Blake and drift towards it, our noses wrinkled. It looks like the scraps of an old leather boot, stewed and garnished with bits of plant life. I stare across the table at Sarah, who's trying to keep it together, and grin.

"What is this?"

"_Foie gras_," she exhales.

"And again we ask…" Missy mutters, "What _is_ this?"

The pitter-patter of little ninja feet snags our attention and we look up to see Charlie coming down. He approaches the table, his smiley face turning into a frowny one, and remarks:

"_Blergh!_"

With that, the three of us give in to laughter at Sarah's expense. She crosses her arms and glares, while her son pokes the plate with his plastic dagger.

"_Sorry_," I choke out to Blake. "Sarah never touched _foie gras_ before today. She was trying to impress y-"

"Andie!"

"_Oh_. Ms. Walker, you didn't have to-"

"_I'm aware_."

He clears his throat and looks away, but I catch the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"_So_," Felicia chuckles over Missy's sniggers. "Pizza?"

"Does _Director Collins_ eat pizza?" I grin back at him.

"Once a year." We all laugh now. "No, seriously." We stop.

"_Wow_. You _have_ to stay. Stay and have your annual pizza with us!"

Whatever he has to say for or against the idea is interrupted by his ringtone. It sounds familiar, but before I can place it he fishes his phone out of his pocket, stares at the screen and then turns it off. Blake looks up at us. "_If you insist_."

I insist and pull out a chair…

**A/N: Read, review, and if all is well I will update ASAP! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I love High School Musical. I **_**love**_** Step Up 2. As flawed as they both are. So it brings me great joy to be able to refer to one while writing for the other!**

_**Ahem**_**. On an unrelated note…I'd like to shamelessly plug Reuben deFlash's 'Like We Used To'. It deserves a chance! Not because it's Blake/Andie (it isn't), or because she leaves nice reviews (she does), but because it's well written, in character and just generally awesome. So yeah.**

**That's…**_**all I have to say**_**…**

**Chapter 7: The Start of Something New**

**Blake **

It's five o'clock in the morning when the phone blares on my nightstand. I wake up with a jerk and wince at the obnoxious ring, before reaching out and fumbling for it. Who the hell could be calling at this-?

"For how long were you planning on ignoring me?"

I grimace at the all-too-familiar British drawl. Should've known. Should hang up.

"For how long were you planning on staying?"

"You're not too pleased with me, are you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

A sigh, drawn out and dramatic. "Blake, I _really_ am sorry for turning up out of the blue. But Cybil insisted that it should be a surprise and I could never say no to her. Besides, I didn't want our first conversation in three years to happen over the phone."

"_Sorry to disappoint_."

"_Don't be_. Where were you last night?"

"Dinner with friends."

"Which friends?"

"What's it to you?"

"Oh, for God's sake! It was just a question."

I exhale and rub my eyes. "Edie, what do you want?"

"To see you, of course. And I know you want to see me."

"I saw you. You dyed your hair. I didn't like it."

"Well, it's not the only thing that's changed about me. Come on, you're not even _the least bit_ curious to know why I'm here?" Curious? Of course, I'm curious. I'm just about itching with anticipation. "Listen, I'll pick you up for lunch this afternoon, all right?"

"No. _Not_ all right."

"_Bye, Blake_."

"_Edie_-"

She hangs up. I curse and do the same, with a little more force than is necessary. I roll back into bed, but any hope of filling my quota of forty winks is gone. So I just lie there for a while, before groaning and getting up.

This won't affect my day. It _won't_…

_**Andie**_

"_Good morning, everyone_."

"_Morning, Director Collins_."

"Today…" he begins, putting down his bag and water bottle. "We're going to try something a little different." A few heads snap up as we all stretch. "Ms. West, Mr. Alexander and…_that one_…" he jerks his head at Chase, who sticks his tongue out defiantly, "are going to give us some improv in their own styles." My smile flash freezes at this. I look around the class, realize that they're looking at _me_, and fix my unbelieving eyes on Blake.

These guys have never seen me dance, not seriously. I can't predict how they'll respond when we try to show them what we really do. "And _you_ will work out how to incorporate it into your technique. _No need to worry_," he adds, eyes meeting mine. I look down and battle the heat creeping into my face. "This isn't about the right way or the wrong way. We're here to learn. _Andie_. You're up."

I shrug with what I hope looks like total cool, adjust my socks and stand. For about a millisecond Blake seems to smile, before aiming the remote at the stereo. Cherish's "Killah" pounds through the room and I stand stunned for a minute.

"_Well…?_"

I snap out of it, biting back a grin, and nod to the beat…

By the end of our little showcase they're all pretty impressed, with Moose in particular. They get to their feet and genuinely try to find their way into it. Who woulda thunk?

Halfway through the lesson we come up with something like what Blake and I had a few days ago. Chase nails it, Moose struggles to get the steps, but with a little help I know he'll end up schooling _me_, Jimmy is a machine, so you could give him a booty-shake and he'd make it work, and the rest of the class just follows his lead.

For the first time, we actually have fun, and by the end we don't want it to end. Alas, there are other lessons to be had. But I hang back as they all pick up their stuff and file out…

"Hey, Andie!" Moose calls. "_Let's bounce_."

"Go on ahead, homeboy. _I'll catch up_."

Moose and Chase glance at each other and shrug, before limping out 'gansta' style.

"_I've created a monster_."

I grin up at him. "I guess all it took was a few hours in the '_ghetto'_ for you to come around, huh?"

"_Guess so_. You have a wonderful family."

Family. "_Yeah_."

"Well, that was convincing."

"What? No. They _are_ like family. I've known Sarah since I was a kid and _she_ was my Mum's friend. I was there when Charlie was born and for all his birthdays afterward. But they're not _actually_ family. I just get kind of…lonely."

"I know the feeling. Or something similar at least…"

He drifts off, all vague like, but I think I get it. From the little that I've seen of the Collins clan, Blake looks like the outsider. He's just not as chilled, not as free, not as happy…

"Is it wrong to feel that way? Or ungrateful or whatever?"

He shrugs. "You can't help how you feel."

"I love them. I do."

"So do I. Love them, I mean. _My_ family. Not…_your_ family. Which isn't to say Sarah and Charlie aren't perfectly lovable. _Missy_ is a bit overwhelming but-"

"_Blake!_" I snort, placing an index finger over his lips to shut him up. "_I understand_." He nods and brings his hand up to take away mine. It doesn't register with me until he forgets to let go and I start to feel how warm his palm is. I cough for no good reason. "Um-"

"Am I interrupting something?" a teasing, British voice curls in from the doorway and I pull back.

It's a lot more abrupt than I wanted it to be…

**Blake **

My God, she actually came. I expect to feel angry about it, but the anger doesn't follow. Only…relief?

"_Edie_," I deadpan.

"_Blake_," she mimics.

"_Andie_," she adds, raising her hand awkwardly and lowering it a second later.

"Ms. West, that'll be all for today." She nods mutely, hooks her thumbs into the straps of her backpack, but doesn't move. "_You can go_."

"You gonna be all right?"

I blink, a little taken aback by the question. She is genuinely concerned and that concerns me. "_Of course_." Whatever she is to me outside of school, within MSA she is a student. This is none of her business. What was I thinking talking to her about it? "_Go_. Chase is waiting."

She glances between Edie and me, before nodding and jogging out. We both watch her leave and once she's out of sight I speak:

"You can't show up in the middle of class."

"You _weren't_ in the middle of class. But while we're on the subject…your students look _very_ promising. Apart from for the last two. I mean the pretty one…_Andie?_ And the gawky boy. Are they classically trained?"

"No. They're hip-hop dancers."

"_Hip-hop?_" she repeats, as if it's a language from another planet. "What're they doing here?"

"_Learning_."

She smiles, despite my glower, and shrugs. "Well, you're the real thing, aren't you? _Director_ Collins." I shrug. "_Right_. Lunch. Shall we?"

"No. No lunch. No phone calls. We're done. _Go home, Edie_."

Her broad grin fades, her green eyes dim, and I wish I enjoyed it more than I do.

"_All right_," she nods, stepping back. "But I'll be here for a few more weeks, if you change your mind…" She leaves and all of the sudden the anger I was looking for surfaces. Problem being I can't make it through the day with this boiling up inside me. I have performance reviews from the staff to look over; a meeting with the school board…and Chuck is only fifteen minutes away…

"What were you thinking?"

"_Good day to you, too_."

"I don't have time for pleasantries."

"_Oh_. Well, let's get to it then." Chuck flops down in his favorite chair and gestures for me to sit, as well. I fold my arms and stare down at him. He shrugs, which only irritates me more. "Your mother and I were thinking that Edie was your first love, your _last_ love so far. We were thinking that you're lonely and need _someone_ in your life. We were thinking that you could have that someone if you weren't so stubborn and afraid- yes, _afraid_," he stresses when I try to interrupt. "We were _thinking_ that we would exercise our parental right to _try_ and do what's best for you."

"Well, it's a little late for that," I snap.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm thirty-years-old, Dad! You lost your _right_ to interfere in my life a few decades ago." Chuck blinks up at me, at a loss it seems, and I look away, burnt out. "Just…stay out of it."

He murmurs something as I walk out, but I couldn't stop to listen if I wanted to…

_**Andie **_

"Does Blake ever talk about his ex?"

"Edie?" says Chase, glancing at me before turning his attention back to the road. "_Once_. My Mum and Dad were really keen on him coming back to MSA someday, _reclaiming the throne_. But they wouldn't push it as long as he was happy in London. So when he finally took them up on their offer I knew that something must have made him _unhappy_. They fed me this bull about not being able to find a suitable replacement for Gordon, but Blake would never give Edie up just to save the school. Turns out _she_ gave _him_ up."

"Wait…" Moose leans in from the backseat. "Director Collins ditched the Royal Ballet because of a girl?"

"_The_ girl. They hooked up in his first year-"

"_Halfway through his first year_." Chase cocks an eyebrow at me. "At least…that's what he said."

"When?"

"At home yesterday."

"How did he find the time to tell you about it?"

"Well, he kind of…stayed…for dinner."

"_Wait_…" Moose intercepts again. "Director Collins had dinner at your house?"

"_It's a long, stupid story_." They both fix me with skeptical looks. "What? It _wasn't_ a big deal. _What?_"

"_Sorry_," Moose retreats, scratching his head. "It's just…Sophie raised the point when I told her about _Swan Lake_." I shrug for him to go on. He grimaces. "She thought it looked like favoritism, like he's not treating you the same as every other student. She didn't get why he only took you. _I explained it to her_," he reassures when I start to protest. "And I promised to get her tickets for the actual show. She's cool about it now…"

But I'm not. For the first time I am _not_ cool about it. I turn to Chase. "Do you think I'm getting special attention?"

He just shrugs. "I'm not the most objective person to ask. To be honest…I _like_ that you're spending time together, I like that you're getting along. He's my brother and- between you and me- I kind of care what he thinks. He never paid attention to any of my ex-girlfriends. So you _must_ be special."

That's not necessarily true. As far as I know I'm just a student to Blake, one with 'special needs'. But instead of pointing this out I say, like the desperate, clingy chick I'm turning into; "You said ex-girlfriends. What does that make me…your current girlfriend?"

Chase grins and yeah, I want to punch his lights out. "_If you want to be_."

"_If you want me to be_."

"Damn it, what about what _I _want?" Moose exclaims.

I roll my eyes, but I'm secretly relieved for the interruption. "What do you want?"

"_Ice cream_. My Mum's on this health kick and I can't get the stuff at home. In addition," he grins sheepishly. "I'd love to roll up to the parlor in this sweet ride of yours, _if you don't mind, Mr. Collins_."

Chase's grin widens as he shakes his head at the weirdness of my friend. "Not at all, Moose. _Not at all_…"

**Author's Note: I think it's interesting that- and I picked this up from multiple, obsessive viewings of the DVD- Moose, who sort of plays 'Gossip Girl' in the beginning, can't tell Andie why Director Collins left the Royal Ballet. He suggests 'some sweet deal to make MSA the next Julliard' but doesn't know for sure. So there's room for interpretation and fanfic writing with that one…**

**Again, thanks for reading, everyone! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: This chapter is more Chandie-oriented, which makes me vaguely uncomfortable…but there's no denying their chemistry or nullifying their relationship!**

**Point being that Blake and Andie have chemistry, too, and wouldn't it be interesting if…?**

**Chapter 8: Expert Advice **

**Blake **

"If you're here to tell me I'm an asshole for going off on Dad yesterday-"

"Uh…_no?_ I mean you _are_ an asshole but that isn't what I wanted to talk about."

I shrug, shedding my defenses with the action, and step aside to let him in. "What do you want to talk about?" I ask, shutting the door, and a second later: "_Shoes off, slippers on_."

"I'm _not_ wearing those," he dismisses, but kicks off his sneakers and strolls down the hallway in socks of equally questionable hygiene. "How do you get women upstairs after making them swap their heels for infirmary footwear?" He turns and smirks. "Oh, wait…_you don't_."

I roll my eyes and follow him to the kitchen, where he proceeds to select, examine and discard the contents of my fridge. "Chase, would you please focus your pea-sized brain long enough to tell me _what you wanted to talk about?_"

He shuts the door with a murmur of defeat, leans against it and crosses his arms. "_Andie_." What else? It seems that for the first time in his young life, Chase is smitten, has been since the audition. I have to wonder if his enthusiastic defense of her stemmed from wanting to see the girl again rather than the dancer. Which is not to say she lacks talent. Only that she is, in fact, gorgeous… "What do you think of her?"

"A work in progress."

Chase groans. "_Not_ her as your student. Her as my girlfriend." I shrug. "Well, you've pretty much been spending as much time with her as I have. Does she ever talk about me?"

"_No_," I reply, a little too quickly. "But then…she wouldn't," I add. "We don't have that kind of relationship."

"Yeah, you do," he counters. "I mean…_sure_. When you get to school you're _Director Collins_. But outside of MSA, when you're just Blake, you get to know her. And you know that she's smart, you know that she's funny, you know she's freaking hot." I shrug. "So do you like her?"

The question catches me off guard and I falter for a moment. "_Like her?_" I finally manage, crossing my arms. "What're you trying to say?"

"Do-you-like-her?" Chase repeats, louder and slower. "Do you think she's worth it? Do you think I should make it official?" I relax, arms unfolding and dropping to my sides. This is still about them, not…us. Not that there _is_ an 'us'.

"I can't make that decision for you."

"But you can help. Come on, Blake, you weren't _always_ an android. Try some empathy. What would you do if you were me?"

"If I were you? I would _stop_ screwing around and tell her how I feel. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Um…I get my heart broken and spend the rest of my life emotionally guarded, like you?"

That will not be dignified with a response. "I have to get to school. _So do you._"

He smirks and shakes his head, before sauntering off, like a great weight has been lifted off his shoulders. I feel a stab of…something as I watch him go. Probably envy, masquerading as jealousy. I know I once denied envying Chase anything…but this one thing, this one _person_…

Andie is special. I know it, Chase knows it, and oddly enough, she doesn't. I just hope he doesn't take her for granted. I wouldn't…

_**Andie**_

They don't call her 'Cyborg Sophie' for nothing. She's been rehearsing non-stop for an hour. Lessons started a while ago, so the hallways are empty and silent, except for the preppy, princess pop/hip-hop filtering out from the studio. I check my watch and groan. Free period is my favorite time of the day, but I'll miss it if I have to. I have to. This Chase thing is driving me crazy and I need to talk to someone in a similar-

"_Andie?_" Sophie pokes her head out of the doorway and frowns. "Have you been sitting here all this time?"

"_Hey_, Soph." I stumble to my feet and flick the hair out of my face. "Didn't want to…interrupt."

She shrugs. "What's up?"

"I…um…just wanted to ask you-"

"About Chase?"

"How did you-?"

"I know that look," she says and gives a knowing smirk. "I've seen it in the eyes of at least a dozen girls, _including myself_." I fight the urge to slap a hand to my forehead. Before Sophie and Moose there was Sophie and Chase. How could I forget? "You want to know if he's just not that into you."

I grimace and scratch my head. "Lame, no?"

"_No_. Chase is smooth. Even the best of us slip and fall. Walk with me?" I do and we shuffle towards Collins' class. "So we've established that you're more than a groupie," she says. "You're…_special_. But that doesn't mean he won't enjoy messing with you just as much as the others. It's fun for him, a game. _You_ have to play it."

"Is that what you did?"

"_No_," she sighs. "I was too wrapped up in my feelings then. But I have the gift of hindsight now and I'm passing it on to you. Play the game, Andie. Play it and _win_. For us. The losers."

I snort. "You're not a _loser_. You have Moose. And he ain't no consolation prize."

Sophie pauses to think this over and grins. "True._ Very true…_"

All of a sudden, the door swings open behind me and I stumble into Blake. "_Andie_," I wave, but he just looks daggers over my head at- "_Sophie_."

"_Blake_," we harmonize.

"I hate to interrupt what is obviously an intense, theoretical discussion, but…"

"_Classes_."

He gives us his big, mean Director face and backs into the dance studio, calling for quiet as he goes. I roll my eyes at Sophie, who grimaces and laughs.

"Good luck. _With both of them_…"

**Blake**

"Chase, Andie, am I _boring_ you?"

Their heads snap in my direction, smiles struggling to the surface as they step away from the riveting tête-à-tête I just broke up. Every muscle in me tenses up, but not from the routine I was trying to demonstrate.

"Nope. _Not at all_."

I nod and go on, but barely two minutes have passed before they act up again. As far as I can tell, Chase is the guilty party. He seems completely engrossed in her, playing with her hair, whispering in her ear. Some incensed snake seems to come to life and uncoil in my chest at the sight…

"Well, I must be, because you can't seem to concentrate."

"_Sorry, Director Collins_," he holds up his hands in self-defense, "Ms. West is distracting me."

"I am _not!_" she protests, but her grin breaks free.

"_Chase_, I want you in the front of the class. _Andie_, go stand next to Jimmy." They fix me with disbelieving stares, but do as they're told. "You will _not_ dance together until you learn how to conduct yourselves."

I try to pick up where I left off, but the episode seems to have thrown me. The class mimics my movements half-heartedly, each and every one of them feeling the shift in the atmosphere. By the time the bell rings it feels like nothing got done. The proverbial snake hisses as I tell Andie to stay behind…

"_Don't_ change just because you're in a relationship with him."

She seems to bite back whatever apologetic words she had in mind and nods. "_I won't_."

That should be enough for me. It isn't. "So you _are_ in a relationship."

"_None of your business_," she teases, nudging me a little.

I try to smile, but my face aches from the strain. She's right. Her personal life is of no consequence to me. How could I forget my own rules?

"Just…stay you."

Andie shrugs. "Life's too short to be anyone else, right?"

I am pretty sure that came from somewhere significant, but she runs off before I can take the trouble to ask. Never mind. It's probably none of my business anyway…

_**Andie **_

"All I know is I would _love_ to play Teacher's Pet with _Director Collins_."

"_Missy! _Would you just shut up about him?"

"_Wha-at? _I can't help it if he looks like a friggin' Armani model!"

"_Felicia_. Help?"

She tugs out her IPod earphones and sighs. "_Ain't no stoppin' the girl once she gets started_."

"With those steely eyes…those big, strong hands…you _know_ he gotta have strong hands, liftin' all them skirts over his head…"

I get this brief but vivid mental flash of Blake's 'Tiger Beat poster', hanging on the wall inside, and squirm. "You are _such_ a horndog sometimes."

She makes a dismissive sound through her teeth. "Like you haven't noticed, spendin' all that time with him."

"I haven't! Blake's just…_Blake_."

"You don't think he's hot?" Missy demands, her voice drenched in disbelief. I shrug and stare off into the street, struggling with the idea…

Blake is tall, which I kind of like, athletic, which goes without saying, he smells good, even when he sweats, and on the rare occasions that he smiles, it suits him. When I think about it, he's the anti-Chase, darker, colder, but just as appealing somehow…

"He's_ Blake_," I mutter and, dying to shift the attention, ask Felicia what she thinks.

She shrugs. "I'm all about Rynan right now…but if I wasn't…I'd say Collins has _something_."

"He has _everything_," the Latina practically growls.

"He _has_ a girlfriend," I blurt out.

She pouts. "_For real?_"

I nod and piece together the rest of the half-truth as I go along. "_Yeah_. It was…kind of long-distance thing? But she just flew in from England to be closer to him."

"_Damn_," Missy sighs, leaning back against the bench. "Who can blame her?" And that's the last we hear about Blake…

So I kind of lied to her…which feels weird and bad. But it was more of a white lie, to protect her from disappointment. And hey. It might all turn out to be true. Maybe Blake never got over his ex. Maybe he wants her back. Maybe Edie is still the first and last person to make him really happy. She made him unhappy before, though. She could do it again. So maybe she's not the best choice. Same goes for Missy…and every other girl I know.

There must be someone, _somewhere_ that's perfect for him. I'd help him find her…but apparently it's none of my business.

**A/N: During high school I learned how new relationships can change you; distract you from your studies. My English teacher was really put off by my behavior in class whenever I was with certain people, especially since I was so well behaved on my own. Took me a while to achieve a balance between work and play! So I thought that would be something Andie might struggle with…**

**Of course, Blake's concerns aren't entirely professional. More on that later ;p**

**This wasn't one of my favorites. There were some good moments, but I think the Chandie drowned them out. What do **_**you**_** think? **


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **_**So**_** sorry that this took too long! I have recently begun my tertiary education, thus I am a tad busy. You'll never guess who one of the alumni looks like! Okay, while you're guessing… **

**It must be fairly obvious by now that I'm a big fan of delayed gratification. The apple is sweetest at the top of the tree and so on and so forth…**

**I fear making everyone else vaguely uncomfortable/bored with the turtle-slow progress of Blake and Andie's relationship, but the end result will be so much more satisfying (and realistic, but to hell with that) if we waaaaaiiiiitttttt a little longer! **

**Ooooh, and I highly recommend you listening to The Beatles' 'If I Fell', or Googling the lyrics before you read this, so as to get yourselves in the mood...**

**Fingers crossed for this to be worth the wait…**

**Chapter 9: If I Fell **

**Blake **

"I've figured out how I'm going to pop the question."

"_What?_"

Chase grins and shakes his head at my horrified expression. "I'm asking Andie to be my girlfriend, retiring the jersey!"

This announcement seems to call for some sort of approval or congratulations, but all I can come up with is a caustic: "_Twelfth time's the charm_."

He makes a big show of ignoring me and continues: "We're going to see _Swan Lake_, once I get my hands on some tickets. _Très romantique_ for a first date, non?" I have nothing to comment on here, besides his appalling French accent, but he goes on, undaunted. "I bought _this_ to seal the deal."

He withdraws a thin, rectangular, velvety box from his jacket and flips it open. A silver chain lies inside, with two entwined Cs at the end. I appraise it for a moment before looking up.

"Does Andie happen to transform into a cow at sunset?"

"_What?_"

"You seem to like the idea of branding her." The MSA warning bell blares in the distance, but I barely notice it… "That just yells 'Property of Chase Collins!'"

"Sophie thought it was cute."

"You're not _with_ Sophie anymore," I point out, yanking my duffel bag out of the car trunk and slamming down the door.

"Yeah, but that wasn't because-"

"_Besides_," I add, seizing the opportunity to cut this conversation short, "she doesn't wear jewellery, except for the occasional ring or sweatband…"

"_How observant of you_," Chase drawls, snapping the box shut. "_Swan Lake_ is still on, though. Thanks for the words of wisdom."

"_Don't mention it_." Seriously. I would rather he never mention anything to do with Andie ever again. I have heard and seen enough of them, holding hands in hallways, ogling each other across classrooms, passing notes during language tutorials (according to Madame Coquin, who sounds distinctly American when yelling), to be sick of it.

Even more so when I'm constantly reminded of my own hollow, brittle shell of a relationship, by friends and family, demanding to know if Edie, _the_ Edie, the Edie _Moss_ is really in Baltimore, and if I intend to do something about it, and if not, what the hell is my problem…

Days like these have me aching for a vacation. Preferably on a deserted island cut off from all communication with the rest of the world. I just need to find someone capable and crazy enough to take my place…

_**Andie **_

Lately I think that if Blake was kidnapped and replaced with a robot, I would never know the difference. He roams around MSA, overseeing its actors and dancers and singers, checking his watch for the dozens of meetings he has to be on time for, and all the while there is this total lack of _joie de vivre _(thanks for the pop quiz, Madame)…

What really bugs me is the thought that his slump might have something to do with Edie. If she can still make him feel this way, he must still care, right? But far be it from me to ask, to care, to be all up in his business basically…

"_All right, class_. We've experimented enough for the week. Today we return to that stiff, archaic, regimented art form we all know and love, _ballet_."

He throws a look my way, like he just expects me to be a smart ass about it. I want to be, I really, _really_ want to be…but knowing what I know makes it hard not to worry about the guy. I _hate_ worrying. I wish I could still see him as the two-dimensional dance teacher, the cardboard cut-out that stops existing once school is over. But this isn't some optical illusion. I can't unsee what I see when I look at him…

"We're going to practice partnering," he ploughs on, blinking a little at my good behavior, "also known as _pas de deux_. You all need work on your strength in this. All except…where's Jimmy?"

Jodie, this painfully nice blonde chick with 'bad feet', raises her hand.

"Jimmy's gone down with a cold, sir. It's nothing too serious but…"

But Blake would rather quarantine him in the janitor's closet than risk him spreading any germs in the classroom. To tell the truth, I'm kind of relieved. Jimmy tries to help, but usually just ends up making me look like even more of an amateur with his perfectly pointed toes and effortless extensions. I could use a day off…

"Well, we'll have to get by without him then. _Andie_, you're partnering with me."

So this is how it feels when Karma bitch slaps you. "What? I can't partner with you."

"Because…?" he sighs the question, like the answer makes no difference.

"_Because I'll look like an idiot._"

"You'll look like an idiot with or without me." Somebody has the balls to laugh at that, but whoever it was stops just as I turn around. "_Consider this an opportunity_."

I turn back, eyes narrowed to slits, and bow.

"Whatever you say, _Your Majesty_…"

**Blake **

_Your Majesty_…_Your Highness_…_Prince Plié_…you would think that such juvenile jibes lose their sting so long after high school. You would think wrong.

"_Partnering_," I utter through gritted teeth, "is first and foremost, about trust, commitment, _eye contact_." I illustrate the point; reaching out and tilting her face up. Her glare wanders for a moment, before focusing on mine.

"Without these you can't hope to form a successful partnership. _Face the class please, Ms. West_."

She turns as if facing a firing squad, muscles taut, eyes diverted. I would scoff at her if I had the energy…

"The four major areas of technique in _pas de deux_ are promenades, lifts, turns, and jumps. Mr. Alexander, what is a promenade?"

Moose blinks and scratches his head. "Uh…is that the move where she balances on one leg and you make her spin or turn or whatever?"

"_Good enough_. Ms. West, would you care to help me demonstrate?"

"_Not really, no_."

I take hold of her hips regardless. "Before you even attempt this, remember to find your centre…"

Andie is technically inferior to every girl in class (not helped by the fact that she consistently forgets to buy pointe shoes), but she has strength and focus. Which is more than can be said for Moose, who seems to weigh less than every girl in class. He lets his partner slip so many times that I genuinely fear for her dancing career.

"Mr. Alexander, one more incident like that and I _will_ dismiss you." The words are barely out before I start to wonder if I should have chosen them more carefully. Moose sags, all confidence evaporating. Andie rolls her head back to fix me with a glower so fierce my face heats up. God, is she actually making me feel bad? "Work on strengthening those feet," I murmur, stepping away. "I'll be right back…"

The gangly teenager sees me weaving through the other pairs, towards them, and starts to shrink behind his partner. It's like watching a baby giraffe hide behind a tree stump…

"_All right_," I exhale, unfolding my arms, "The lift is nowhere near as difficult as you think it is. Jodie, just remember to pull up. Moose, remember to support. One too many dancers have gone into early retirement because of weak or unprepared partners." Their eyes widen. "_But you'll be fine_…" Neither of them looks convinced. "Do you want to see a demonstration first?" They nod like bobbleheads. "_All right_. Class? Andie and I are going to demonstrate the swan lift."

"Oooh, like in_ 'Dirty Dancing'?_"

"_Never heard of it_. Andie, are you ready?"

"_As long as you are_."

"Remember to-"

"Keep my shoulders square, my back straight, and my core _strong_."

"And to trust me."

"_I trust you_."

She gives me a pointed look, positioning herself. I mirror her, waiting for the run-up. Trust. Andie trusts me. That is a disproportionately pleasing thought…

She strides forward, her gaze never wavering from mine, her steps dedicated, and throws herself at me with as much grace as she can muster.

"_Gha!_" she yelps, as I take hold of her waist, bend at the knees and push up to raise her over my head. At that moment the class bursts into applause, Chase accompanying the noise with a terrible rendition of 'The Time of My Life'. I barely notice as I bring her back down to Earth…

"_More Superman than Swan_," she huffs, unwinding her arms from my neck, "but I tried."

It is a little heartbreaking that Andie refuses to see herself in ballet. She is… "_Perfect_. That was perfect," I elaborate, my eyes still trained on hers.

"_Dude_," Moose pipes up, snapping me out of what felt a lot like hypnosis. "You're gonna have to kick me out because I _cannot_ do that."

Andie laughs and the sound is oddly heartening, a sudden crack of sunlight on an otherwise cloudy day.

"Kicking you out won't improve your dancing, Mr. Alexander. We'll have to be a little more creative than that…"

The bell blares for the end of the lesson and they all pack up and file out. All except Andie, who seems to hang back out of habit lately.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "Just…smile already! You've got plenty of reasons to! You're a good teacher and a good guy and a…good looker…_if that's a word_. So try to be happy again. Please?"

I want to tell her to mind her own business, to save her concern for someone who needs it, but the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth makes it hard to utter anything other than a stiff, "_That'll be all for today, Ms. West_…"

I feel oddly unfocused on the way to my office, as if I just stepped off a Tilt-A-Whirl, and almost forget to stop for the secretary.

"Any calls while I was away, Ms. Nielson?"

She glances up at me from her workstation. "_You're smiling_."

I try and fail to suppress it. "_You're not_."

"My Neolithic fiancé would rather play poker with his friends than go to see _Swan Lake _with me. What's your excuse?"

"My students are amusing."

"Well, I'm glad you found _something_ to smile about. How about these to keep it going…?" she reaches into a desk drawer and conjures, "_Two free tickets to next week's showing_."

"Those must've been hard to get your hands on."

"Yes. But he doesn't care. _So neither do I_." She speaks as if chewing broken glass and I grimace a little at her thinly-veiled agony. "Look, do you want them or not?"

"Not really, Abigail. You can only dance it for so long before it loses some of its magic. _But_…" I add, reaching out as she retracts them, "I know two people that would appreciate them a lot more…"

_**Andie**_

"_Nobody puts Andie in a corner!_"

"_Haha, Chase_. That never gets old. Ever."

"Aw, come on!" he grins, "That was like, every teenage girl's fantasy. You should be having a _major_ squee fit."

"_Johnny Castle_ never made me squee."

"He made _me_ squee," Sophie remarks.

"_Me, too_," says Moose, making everyone laugh but me…

Look, I have nothing against Johnny Castle. He was a cool guy. But I would never let him lift me the way Blake did. Because I would never trust him the way that I trust Blake. I would never trust _anyone_ the way that I trust Blake.

Don't get me wrong, I have faith in Chase and Moose and Sarah. It's just different with him. He's not a friend or a boyfriend or a guardian. There are no obligations, no games, no bullshit. I know that if I fell he would catch me…

"_But seriously now, folks_," Chase says, putting on his serious face. "I want to be the only guy that makes Andie squee."

My eyes go wide as I glance at Sophie. She raises her eyebrows before grabbing Moose by the hand.

"_Let's go to the bathroom_."

"_Together?_"

"_No_," she mutters. "Let's just _go_ to our respective bathrooms _together_."

"But I don't need the bathroom."

"Well, _I_ do."

"But-"

She drags him off without another word, leaving us to stare after them in the almost empty hallway…

"_So it looks like we have two options here_," Chase says, like there was never any break in the conversation. "We either: a) Date or b) Circle each other in a fun but ultimately futile dance of unresolved sexual tension. Your thoughts?"

I gawp at him for a minute, completely clueless. Sophie wants me to play the game or whatever, but that is easier said than done. Chase is the pro here. I am the rookie. How do I beat the odds? And how does the game end? Is it like 'Chicken'? Does he win if I give in first and ask for commitment? Do I lose? Should there be winners and losers in relationships? And how is it that I feel so sure about falling with Blake, but so unsure about even jumping with Chase?

"Well…" I murmur, trying for total cool. "We should probably have some sort of trial run."

"Also known as a '_first date'_. How about next Friday night?"

"_That should work_."

"_Then it's a deal_," he grins broadly, stepping closer. "Shall we seal it with a kiss, Ms. West?"

"_That should work_," I say, tilting my grinning face up to his…

"_Ahem_." We pull apart abruptly; faces flushed, and grimace at Blake. He stands with his hands in pockets, looking more awkward and aggravated than I have ever seen him. "Don't you have one more class today?"

"Yeah, we were on our way to it. _Thanks_," Chase adds, sounding less grateful than I have ever heard him. "Is that all, man?"

He narrows his eyes at his brother. "Well, I was going to give you something…"

"What was it?" I ask, trying to ward off the weird silence.

He glances at me, the storm clouds in his eyes clearing a little. "I uh…had some extra notes on the _pas de deux_ that I forgot to give out. I thought you two could pass them on to your classmates. But you're…busy...at the moment, so…it can wait until tomorrow."

Blake walks off without another word. I stare after him until Chase reminds me that we still do have another class to get to…

**A/N: Teeheehee! I have to laugh at myself, writing in ballet terminology like I know what the hell it means! I honestly have a vague idea, having watched 'Center Stage' (bet you caught the reference, hehe) and that hollow, heartless 'Step Up 2' rip off they tried to sell as a sequel…**

**Speaking of dance movies- R.I.P Patrick Swayze and Michael Jackson! I shall be watching both 'Dirty Dancing' and 'This Is It' over the course of the week...**

**Review?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I am now officially hooked on YouTube. Damn you First Worlders and your addictive innovations! **_**Ahem…**_

**While checking out dance clips of the crew, I came across a Blake/Andie/Chase video set to Breaking Benjamin's "Diary of Jane" and a Sophie/Blake/Andie video set to Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me". Both end in a Chandie kiss (**_**blergh**_**) but they are still awesome! If you have not seen them yet, you must now! **_**Please…**_

**I also found Will Kemp's old GAP commercial. It was…wow. I never would've thought he was capable of…that. I mean he was **_**working it.**_** And he hasn't aged a day. **_**Bless…**_

**Chapter 10: And The Beat Goes On**

**Blake **

What the hell happened back there? I took the tickets with every intention of giving them to Andie and Chase…I left my office with every intention of giving them to Andie and Chase…but then I saw Andie and Chase…and all I wanted to do was rip them into as many pieces as possible and burn them…

And maybe scatter the ashes over some far-flung ocean, just to make absolutely sure that Andie and Chase never ever see _Swan Lake…_

The problem, when I stop to think about it, is not Andie seeing _Swan Lake_. The problem is Andie seeing _Swan Lake_ with Chase. Chase, who only ever watched it because Cybil wanted him to see me dance, Chase, whose only opinion on the performance was that I looked like a gay chicken, _Chase_, who has no love, no respect for the art form our family built its life on…

He wouldn't take it seriously. He wouldn't let _her_ take it seriously. He would make it a date. And the cultural experience of a lifetime should not be treated like a popcorn flick.

Of course, she has every right to ruin it for herself. But I have no intention of getting involved. What to do with these then…

I could give them to Chuck and Cybil, as a peace offering, but one of them is out of the country. I could pass them on to a couple of dancing or non-dancing friends, but they've already secured seats, or seen it a hundred times too many. I could throw on a hooded sweatshirt and skulk around the parking lot, trying to sell them for twice their price. _Or_…I could go. I _should_ go, if only to salvage this golden opportunity. But who with…?

The first name that comes to mind is Edie's and it's brushed off just as impulsively. But on second thought…I want someone capable of appreciating the experience, of making _me_ appreciate it again. Whatever failings Edie had as a girlfriend, she was always a flawless dance partner. We wouldn't have to talk much. Just enough for me to find out why she's here before she leaves…

The phone is in my hand before I have time to think about it anymore…

_**Andie **_

I am going on a date. A first date. My first date ever. This is like, a major milestone in the lifespan of a teenage girl, according to Sophie, who wants to double-date us with Moose. That won't be weird at all, right? Right…

The whole thing totally takes over my mind for the rest of the day, so that I get yelled at by a couple of teachers for not focusing. They threaten to tell on me to Director Collins, which would be scarier if I didn't know Blake has too much shit on his plate right now to care about my antics…

On another day that might bug me, but today I have my own issues to work out, too. Like what to wear…

"Girl, you need to _stop_ comin' round my house like some Salvation Army volunteer and buy yo' ass a dress!"

"_What for?_" I mutter, rifling through Missy's closet. "This is just a one-off."

"Oh, I beg to _differ_. You're MSA now, D. It made some changes for you but you gotta make some changes for it. _Startin' with the wardrobe._ You can't spend the rest o' your life in sweats!"

"_Okay, okay_," I murmur, my shoulders rising defensively. "I'll make some changes; I'll…play dress up. _But I am foolish and green, sensei._ I need your guidance in the ways of women!"

"_You'll learn, grasshopper_. And if you won't I'll beat you over the head with my stilettos!"

Wow. Judging by the glint in her eye she is nowhere near kidding right now…

**Blake **

"Like a date?"

"_No_. NOT like a date."

"This feels like it could be a date."

"It's not a date."

"Do you want it to be a date?"

"_Shut up and eat your salad_."

Milo shrugs and delves into the bowl of greenery. He teaches Literature, but his crush on Madame Coquin has inspired him to pursue the dancing physique, in the hope of her finally noticing him. Her real age is a mystery, but seeing as she looks no older than his forty years, it makes little difference. My eyes wander from Milo to the other professors situated around the lounge. It's hard to concentrate on any of their conversations when that phone call keeps replaying in my head…

"_Edie Moss speaking_."

"_It's me_."

"_Me? Me who?_"

"_Edie, I don't have time for-_"

"_Blake? Blake Collins, is that you? Surely not! I thought you'd never call._"

"_I thought so, too. Now I'd like to make this as short and painless as possible so…Swan Lake is playing in D.C next week. Would you like go with me? Not as a friend, or ex-girlfriend, mind you, but as an old colleague that I might want to catch up with?"_

"_Goodness. How much time did you spend practicing that?" _

"_I did not-" _

"_Yes, I'd quite like to see Swan Lake again. Would it be possible to negotiate an actual conversation during the evening?"_

"_That…sounds workable."_

"_Good. You'll pick me up at six o'clock then." _

"_Six o'clock…" _

I started it feeling completely in control and ended it feeling like I got mugged in a dark alley. Now I wonder why the hell I walked down that alley in the first place. The idiocy of the act almost makes me ashamed to tell Andie about it (and I _have_ to tell her about it- or else spend half the night hiding). But at the same time, I _want_ to tell her. I want her to yell at me or laugh in my face. I want her to care. Because I am slowly but surely losing my mind…

"Isn't it time for your tutorial with the irreverent Ms. West?"

"Yes, it is."

"_Good_. You need to set your mind to solid, productive work. It'll go a long way in easing all this angst."

That seems highly unlikely, but…"I'll take your word for it. _Enjoy the rest of lunch_…"

_**Andie **_

"Don't forget your hands and wrists…relax them, but don't let them flap around. And remember to-"

"_Leave space between my fingers_."

"_Good_.

I let my smirk shine through and give a little bow. When I straighten up he's just staring at me.

"What?"

"It occurs to me that someday soon you won't need tutorials."

"You mean I won't need _you?_"

"_That, too_."

Something in my chest tightens but I smile past it. "Dude, I will _always_ need you. When Madame Coquin calls me a talentless waste of space, who will I look to for vindication? When Chase is playing mind games, who will help me exploit his weaknesses? And when I'm bored out of my skull, who will I torment for kicks? _You_, that's who."

The teeniest, tiniest smile cracks open his mouth at this. "Well, I'm happy to be of service." He almost looks to be in a good mood right now and in the hope of keeping it going, I chirp: "Guess where your brother's taking me next Friday."

"_To see Swan Lake_. I heard."

I roll my eyes. "God, he's such a girl, _gossiping about first dates_…" Blake doesn't smile. "It'll be kind of weird seeing it all put together," I press on, "without you there."

"Actually…" he tucks his hands into his pockets, "I _will_ be there. A friend had tickets to spare and she gave them to me."

"_No way!_ Who're you going with?"

This feels like a pretty straightforward question, but Blake frowns and hesitates and scratches his head like a game show contestant, before: "_Edie_."

I blink. "What? Edie, the Evil Ex? _Why?_"

"Because she's leaving and I can't let her go without finding out why she came here in the first place."

For reasons beyond my control or comprehension, every muscle in me starts to tense up. "Uh…I'm thinking she wants you back. And _you're_ not exactly playing hard to get."

"Edie and I will never get back together. We're just going to talk."

"_Ugh!_" is all I can say for a minute as I try to shake off this weird new tension. He folds his arms and cocks an eyebrow, waiting for me to elaborate. "Blake, _don't_ let her play you. She did it once, she'll do it again."

"She might _try_. But I'm not an idiot, Andie. I know manipulation when I see it."

"_I don't think you do_."

"_I don't care what you think_," he snipes. "And I don't need you to be angry for me. Why are you overreacting?"

Now _that_ is the $64, 000 question. "_Beats the hell out of me_," I snap. "But if you don't want me to react, if you don't want me to get upset, try _not_ telling me about your depressing life all the time."

He blinks, like I just slapped him or something, and stares at me. The words hang on the silence for a while and I start to wish I could eat them, make them disappear. "_Okay, I don't know why I said that_. I didn't mean-"

"_Let's get back to work_."

"Blake-"

"_First position, please_."

"I'm sorr-"

He turns his back on me and walks over to the stereo. I stare after him, waiting for him to turn around. Did I overreact? Maybe. But only because he's Chase's brother and my teacher and I care about what happens to him and I don't want to see him hurt. Edie will hurt him. I don't know how, but she will. Unless I step in.

And I _have_ to step in, because that's what friends are for, right? Right…

**A/N: Yes. I **_**am**_** an asshole for taking this freaking long to update. But think of it as a belated Christmas present! It got lost in the mail, see, but now it's here, just before the New Year! Hopefully it's a gift that keeps on giving…reviews that is, hehe =D**

**You have my word that from this chapter onwards, Blake and Andie will open their eyes and see each other in a whole new light…**

**Oooh, check out the new username! You like? **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: LOOK! A short author's note! **_**Believe it...**_

**Chapter 11: Can I Have This Dance- Part Un**

**Blake **

When I made my mind up not to see Edie again, every minute of every hour of every day seemed to tick away with slow, deafening finality. But the moment I asked her out on this non-date, time seemed to move so fast that I could barely stop to breathe. Suddenly it's Friday and I still have no idea what I'm doing. Perhaps I am just giving her the opportunity to 'play' me. I never would have thought of myself as one who is easily 'played'. Yet if anyone could ever make me feel like a ball of yarn in the paws of a kitten, it would be Edie...

As for Andie...well, she finally seems to have lost all interest in the details of my depressing life. Chase says she's just frustrated with me. I say I'm frustrated enough with myself.

"Well, you better kiss and make up soon. I don't want any bad vibes surrounding my proposal."

"Would you _stop_ calling it that?"

"What? It has a nice ring to it. _Pun intended_."

I bite back a retort and exhale through my teeth. "So you got your hands on some tickets?"

"_Dad_ got his hands on them. Wasn't easy at the last minute, even for him, but he said it was worth the effort. He _lurvs_ Andie, thinks I should've sealed the deal ages ago." Chase pauses before continuing, cautiously, as if walking on hot coals: "He's kind of expecting that other son of his to find love tonight."

"You told him-?!"

"Hey, if you would just talk to him again, I wouldn't have to like, spy on your life."

"_Great_," I snap. "Now he'll think he did the right thing by bringing her here."

"Do you honestly think that he didn't?"

My eyes narrow at him. "Would you just pick a tie and go home?"

"I'm spoiled for choice here, all right?"

I stride over, whip out a blue one and throw it over his neck. "I want you two to stay _out of our way_ tonight, understand?"

"_Stop choking me and I'll understand fine_."

I blink, glance down and realize the force of my grip. "_Sorry_," I mutter, freeing him.

Chase feigns a grimace and shakes his head. "Dude, you are _seriously_ wound up. Edie or not, you need to get lucky sometime soon or you're gonna expl-"

"_Out!_"

_**Andie **_

How messed up is it that on the night of my first date all I can think about is another couple? And is it even the couple going out with us? No. I am angsting over Blake. And Edie. Blake and Edie sitting in the same room, Blake and Edie breathing the same air, Blake and Edie making googly-eyes over the same pirouettes, Blake and Edie going back to the same- _ugh_. No. That could never happen. Could it? How long has it been for him? God, why am I even thinking about that? I can't be thinking about that. I need to purge my brain...but seriously, how long?

"I thought you were 'done caring'."

"I can't _uncare_ about people that I care about. It's...it's like this _itch_ that I can't scratch."

"Flea powder should help," Chase smirks, opening the car door for me. I sidle in like some kind of mermaid/penguin hybrid in the floor-length, off-the-shoulder, never-before-worn-so-don't-you-dare-step on-it blue dress Missy lent me. She heard ballet, thought princess and made me wear a tiara and white gloves with it. As soon as I got rid of those I actually liked the look. "_But seriously, folks_," Chase closes the door, jogs round the front and hops into the driver's seat. "Why does this bug you so much?"

"Why doesn't it bug _you_ so much? That chick is a fox. He doesn't stand a chance."

"_Good_."

"_Good?_ How is that-?"

"You look beautiful, by the way."

"_You, too_." He does. The suit suits him, even if the tie looks weirdly familiar and foreign on him at the same time...

"But how is that _good?_"

He takes a minute to check his rear view mirror before speaking again: "Blake's been alone for so long he doesn't even remember what being in love feels like. His heart's all cold and dark and broken. Now I think that since _Edie's_ the one that broke it, _she_ should be the one that fixes it."

"What if he doesn't want _her_ to fix it?"

"What if he _does_ and he's too stubborn to say so?"

It takes me a second to work out a rebuttal and Chase grabs the opportunity to shift gears. "Say, how about we forget about them and focus on us?"

"Us."

"Us._ We, you and me, Chase and Andie._ On a date..."

"_With Moose and Sophie_."

"Thanks, I almost forgot."

I give a sorry grimace and open my mouth to say something nice, but at that exact moment Sarah bursts out of the house and jogs down the porch stairs, something shiny in hand.

"_Andie?_ You forgot your tiara..."

**Blake**

We agreed to meet in the foyer, did we not? At this exact time. Surely she wouldn't be late? Surely. She is, though. The woman is late. While I, like a fool, got here on time. People are looking at me. People that I know. I would- should engage them in small-talk. Or at least smile and wave. It would be good for MSA if nothing else. But the effort required is too great. I'm ready to leave now. I need to leave. Before Andie, Chase and co. arrive and find me hovering here like a ghost...

"_So sorry I'm late_." I turn to see her strolling towards me, admittedly striking in dark green.

"You're late," I mutter stupidly.

"_By about seventy-five seconds._"

"_You are seventy-five seconds late_. People were looking at me."

"Well, now they're looking at _me_." She grins at some familiar face somewhere and flutters her fingers in their direction.

"You are something of a celebrity in this world."

"_As are you._ Oh, Sylvia What's-Her-Face is here! We've always _hated_ each other. Let's go and say hello."

"_I'd rather not_."

Edie furrows her brow and stares me down. "Well, we can't just stand here breathing, Blake. _We must mingle_."

"If we're going to socialise," I mutter, my wandering gaze settling on the quartet that has just emerged from the crowd, "let it be with people we actually like."

She traces my gaze to Andie, Chase, Sophie and Moose. They all hesitate when they see us, as if waiting for permission to approach. I have to admit it can be awkward to see students outside of school. The few others that are here tonight have either pretended not to notice me or forced a smile and waved before hiding behind their parents.

"Well, the last time I spoke to your brother he was about twelve. And completely incapable of carrying a conversation. I'm sure he had the most crippling crush on me, on _anything_ in a bra. But he seems to have overcome _that_ particular disability."

She refers specifically to Andie, who most likely wears a bra. She looks...almost grown up tonight. Maybe even mature. Elegant might be the word. Her hair is up, but not in a style that suggests she just tied a rubber band around it while running to class. My hand unclenches as I realize that a stray curl is coming loose. Someone should put that back for her...

"Lady and gentleman," Chase speaks first, snapping me out of my daze, "may I present..._Princess Andrea_."

"No, you may _not_," she utters, elbowing him in the ribs. "It's Andie." She glances between us. "Just Andie."

"I remember you, Just Andie. You _do_ look rather regal outside of your tracksuit. Chase, I haven't forgotten _you_ either." The latter stares as if she just slapped him and turns a vague shade of red. I start to roll my eyes, stop myself in time and catch Andie looking at me. I try for a smile, a tentative gesture of familiarity, but Sophie leaps in front of her before she can react.

"_Miss Moss_," she breathes, smiling wide. "I love you. I mean- I love your work! I- you have done _so much_ to inspire me-"

"That's very sweet of you," Edie beams. "Pardon me; I don't think I know your name."

"Sophie Donovan. _I dance_."

"_I dance, too_," Moose pipes up. Sophie blinks and looks back at him, as if she just realized he's here.

"This is my boyfriend," she says, dragging him forward, "_Robert Alexander the Third_."

"That's a very stately name, Robert. Do you come from a long line of dancers?"

"No," he seems to apologize. "My Dad's a roadie. _But you can call me Moose_."

I glance at Andie, who seems to biting back laughter, and feel my cool veneer cracking under the pressure of a smile.

"You guys should probably talk to the other old people," Chase interjects. "We're gonna go find our seats."

"_Good idea_," I mutter and find my eyes trained on Andie again. All of a sudden I wish that we were in class, away from this. But school is probably the last thing on her mind. And I am the second last, a vague imprint only revived by the fact that I'm here right now.

"Well, I think I'll take a trip to the restroom while you're busy ignoring me," Edie drawls. "_Be back in a tic_."

I watch her go, trying to remember _why_ we are here together...

_**Andie**_

I feel like a character in the Twilight Zone right now. _I_ know Edie is evil; I know she hurt Blake, but everybody else acts like she's the second coming. Sophie is still hyperventilating from the sheer power of her presence, Chase is trying to play like I didn't notice his girlish blushing, and Moose, the only objective person in this, is having a hard time saying anything bad about her besides, "She is like, _really British_." What the hell?

"_You wouldn't understand_," Sophie groans.

"Try me!"

"Okay, it's not just seeing _her_ that's making me feel like this. Try to remember how _you_ felt when...you were a kid and your parents took you to Toys 'R' Us. Now imagine the store manager saying you could play with any and every toy in there. Multiply that by a hundred and you are in the vicinity of how I feel right now."

"_Got it_. So what're _your_ excuses?"

Chase and Moose swap glances before shrugging: "_She's hot_."

I roll my eyes and Chase laughs. "All right, none of this talk is conducive to a romantic first date. Andie, would you please stop being mad at me long enough to let me take you to our seats so that we can spend some quality time together?"

Right now I would love to answer that with a 'Hell no', but in a few hours I would regret it. This night is supposed to be about us. Blake and Edie are not my problem. "Just let me use the bathroom and then we can go..."

According to Missy I need to monitor my makeup at regular intervals, seeing as I have a habit of touching my face, heedless of the consequences. Makeup Check #1 reveals that all is well. Satisfied, I turn to leave the ritzy 'Cribs' style bathroom, when the cubicle door behind me swings open. Edie steps out, looking like she was in there serving martinis, and stops when she sees me.

"_Andie_," she smiles. "Powdering your nose?"

"I don't know how."

"Oh? You should let me give you a few tips some time. A girl must look her best when out with a Collins boy."

"You learn that at the Royal Ballet School?"

"_Among other things_." She smiles.

I smile. "So are you and Blake having fun?"

"As much fun as can be had at this sort of thing. We'll have to move on to some place a little less formal after this."

Sure, you will. "Well, enjoy the rest of the night."

Ballet dancers always seem to carry themselves with this graceful arrogance, Blake and Edie being perfect case studies, and I'll admit to trying to imitate that as I leave. I'm halfway out the door when she speaks: "Blake?"

"Huh?"

"You called Director Collins 'Blake'. Do your classmates call him by his first name?"

"Um...no? Just me. It's not like I feel entitled or whatever...but you know...he's my...friend's brother...so...the formality seems kind of pointless." _Why_ am I explaining myself to her? I don't have to. But she's giving me this look like...

"Oh, yes, of course. Please forgive my nosiness!" she laughs a little. "It's just fascinating to see him as a teacher, interacting with students. Not so long ago _we_ were in _your_ shoes."

"Yeah," is all I can vocalize. "_Sure_." And I walk out without another word, just wanting to go sit in the dark with Chase, where her sharp green eyes won't find me...

**A/N: Happy New Year and Part Deux coming up quick! Like, tomorrow if you enjoyed it enough! Promise :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: See? I told you! Quick! Or at least quick**_**er **_**than usual, right? You have to give me that much! Okay, no, you don't have to give me anything. To tell the truth I am not the most reliable of people. But you best believe that I _will_ give Blake and Andie the ending that they deserve...**

**Oooh, do you want know what ballet movie I watched yesterday? No? I'm going to tell you anyway. **_**Billy Elliot. **_**Freaking brilliant... **

**Chapter 12: Can I Have This Dance- Part Deux **

**Blake **

The first balcony has almost filled by the time we get there, making it virtually impossible for us to find our seats without meeting and greeting a dozen people on the way. Needless to say, Edie is enjoying this much more than I am. She was always a conversationalist, a social butterfly. She could talk her way into and out of anything. Including my life apparently...

We're finally sitting when another familiar face, a few rows ahead, calls for our attention. I look up, my expression set to seem pleasantly surprised, and feel the facade shatter. This familiar face is actually a familial one- _Chase's_. Andie's head is barely visible in the seat next to his.

"Your brother is here with his girlfriend..."

"_She is not his girlfriend_," I mutter, studying my program. They got tickets for our balcony. _Chuck_ got them tickets for our balcony. Because all this night needed was an extra helping of awkward...

"We shouldn't ignore them."

"_They_ are on a date and we-"

"Oh, are we on a date?"

"We have things to talk about."

She smirks, before turning to give the pair an apologetic grimace. Chase shrugs and gives us the thumbs up, before returning his attention to Andie.

"_All right_," she sighs, settling into her seat and fixing me with a look that would have tied my heart in knots not too long ago. "Let's talk..."

_**Andie **_

"See? I gave him a chance to get away. He didn't take it. He wants to be there. _Happy now?_"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

Chase snorts and shakes his head, turning to look out over the edge of the balcony. "I feel bad for Moose and Sophie, down there with the peasants. Bet they're making out, though. As all young lovers should..."

"_They totally should_," I mutter, flipping through a program the usher gave me. "What do you think they're talking about right now?"

"They're too busy making out to talk."

"_What?_" I croak, twisting round in my seat.

"_Whoa_," Chase grins. "Pop a chill pill, Sunshine; I'm still talking about Moose and Sophie." I exhale and unwind. "But how could you focus on them- or _us_ for that matter- with my decrepit brother and his ex-girlfriend nearby?"

I look at him, really look, and grimace. "So I'm being a drag, huh?"

"Yeah, you've pretty much brought my ego down to sea level. Is this date that boring?"

"Tuxes, tutus, and tiaras? How could _that_ be boring?"

"O-kay, sarcasm, got it," he nods. "This isn't your scene, right?"

I open my mouth for another sharp and witty retort...but snap it shut a second later. With him staring at me like this, like I'm the only one he sees in this big old crowded theatre, it hits me that we really are on a date. Not with Moose and Sophie or Blake and Edie. It's just us. This is it for us. "Chase, any scene that has _you_ in it is my scene."

That must have been the right answer, because I get a kiss, just as the lights flicker off...

**Blake **

"Are you listening to me?"

"_What?_ Oh. Of course."

"_No_. You're _not_ listening to me. You're looking at _them_."

I open my mouth to object and clamp it shut a moment later. She has the almost supernatural ability to render one speechless with a single stare. Especially effective when one is trying to lie about something. Thankfully, the lights begin to dim and the audience stirs up in applause before our conversation can continue. But even as the familiar chords of music resonate throughout the theatre, my eyes are dragged from the stage, to the shadowy silhouettes in front of us. I am starting to understand why people stare at car crashes...

"_You're doing it again_."

"_No talking during the show_."

Her gaze seems to pierce the darkness for a moment, searching me like I stole her purse, before she turns back to look at the stage. My concentration is hardly helped by the fact that I know this show inside out; that I can see each movement before it happens. It is beautiful all the same...

Guy makes his appearance as Prince Siegfried, celebrating his coming-of-age with friends and subjects. Natalia Makarova plays the Queen Mother, pushing her son to find a wife. Funnily enough, I relate to this more now than I ever did before. When Anna finally appears as Odette, I can't help but glance at Edie. She catches my eye and smiles a little. How long has it been since we were up there, dancing these parts? Not very long at all...

The nostalgic spell is broken once the lights go up again for intermission. I turn on my phone as soon as we leave, accustomed to being on call every minute that I'm awake. Sure enough, three messages have gone to voicemail. One is from the President of the school board, concerning the cost of repairs to the studio. Another is from Milo, concerning his progress with Madame Coquin. The last voice is unfamiliar and I listen to it more intently than the others as Andie, Chase, Moose and Sophie approach, grinning from ear to ear...

"Yo, that was _da bomb diggity!_"

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone refer to this production as _da bomb diggity_."

"Um...what my charming boyfriend is _trying_ to say, Ms. Moss..."

"_Good_ e_vening, Mr. Collins. I'm Doctor Aaron Hunt from Northwest Hospital. We're calling on behalf of Mr. Charles Collins, who has you listed as his next of kin. Your father was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit after suffering a concussion_..."

"_Blake?_ What's with the face?"

My voice is steadier than I feel as I look at Andie. "Dad's hurt..."

_**Andie**_

The last time I was in hospital I said goodbye to my mom. So the thought of seeing the inside of another one, of seeing another parent hooked up to tubes and wires and shit...well, it kind of puts a damper on what was turning out to be a good night. But I really like Chuck. And that goes double for his sons. Moose and Sophie seem kind of unsure about being there, but Chase mumbles something about them being family whether they like it or not. I get the feeling that Edie would come along with or without permission, but Blake asks her to go with him anyway...

Northern Hospital is one of those private, non-profit places; really clean and quiet and clinical. As we follow the nurse past all these rooms I keep thinking about how many people must have died here. Which doesn't help at all...

"Idina, what happened?"

Idina is really sweet and round and wrinkly, like a sun-dried apple or something. She feels more like a grandma than a housekeeper and when she gets up from her chair in the corner Chase hugs her.

"Sir, I forgot my purse in the kitchen and when I went back for it, I found your father on the floor..."

"_He might have hit his head on the counter_."

"How the hell did that happen?" Blake mutters, going over to his bedside, with Edie trailing him like a shadow.

"_We won't know until he wakes up and tells us_."

"How long has he been out for?" Chase murmurs, joining them on the opposite side of the bed. I shuffle over and hold the hand not resting on the bed railing. His brother seems to notice it more than he does.

"_About two hours_."

"Idina, you've been here for two hours?" She nods and Blake shakes his head. "Thank you. But you should go home. We'll call if anything changes."

She shuffles out with the nurse and Moose and Sophie squeeze into the chair she left behind. We all go quiet and just kind of...watch Chuck being unconscious. After a while Blake lifts a hand to his head, stops when he sees us looking and lowers it to the railing. Edie reaches out and puts her hand over his. My breathing hitches as I watch for his reaction, but he just clears his throat.

"I think I'll go and...wait...in the waiting room."

"We should wait _here_."

"Standing here isn't going to wake him up, Chase."

"Neither will abandoning him, Blake."

"_You're being melodramatic_."

"_You're being an asshole_."

He looks ready to retaliate, but decides against it at the last minute and just walks out, with Edie shadowing him. Moose and Soph jump up to fill the space and the silence they left behind with small talk. I want to chip in, but I feel like my brain left the room, too. And that unscratchable _itch_ is starting up again...

"_I need to use the bathroom_."

"I thought you already went."

"_I didn't really go that time_."

"Then why did you go?"

"_I needed to check my face_."

Chase shakes his head and almost smirks. "Women."

"_I know, right?_"

The waiting room is almost empty from what I can see...not that I can see much. Just Blake hunched over in a chair and Edie perched on a coffee table, trying to engage him in conversation. Her efforts are paying off from the looks of it...

"_We had a fight_."

"_About me?" _

"_Among other things_."

"Well, I am sorry about that. I know that you must be under a lot of pressure from MSA. I didn't come here to add to that. Quite the opposite..."

"_Boy_, I'm parched!" Blake and Edie look up as I penguin-march around the corner like I just got there. "Anybody for a Diet Coke?" I ask on my way to the vending machine. It takes me a second to remember that there are no pockets on my dress and no money in it either.

"_No_."

"_No, thank you_. I should actually go now, before I get too comfortable. This environment isn't conducive to friendly chitchat." Any relief that I feel as she gets up is crushed when she adds: "I'll be back tomorrow morning. Call me if he comes round before then. Goodnight, Blake. _Andie_."

As soon as she leaves I shuffle over to the seat next to his.

"You two are lookin' awful chummy all of a sudden."

"_Don't start._"

"Fine. I won't. I'll _stay out of it_. But just know that I'm okay to talk about it. Even if I think it's a big mistake. I mean, HUGE-_"_

"It is over between us. I have no intention of rekindling anything. All right?"

"_All right_," I say, biting back a grin. He shakes his head at me, the ghost of a smile on his face. We sit there for a minute, just soaking up the silence, before I remember something that I wanted to talk about: "Hey, Anna's turns were pretty badass, right? And Guy was like, a hundred percent there for her."

"That's the kind of thing I was talking about in class."

"Really? I have _no idea_ what you're talking about half the time."

_"_I figured._"_

I snort and thump his knee, before jumping up. "_Let's try it_."

"What? Now? We won't get far with that dress."

"Want me to take it off?" I ask, folding it up past my knees. He looks at me like I just sucker-punched him. "Blake, _breathe_. I was kidding! Now I wanna learn. Get off your ass and teach me."

He must be too tired to argue, because he just gets up and starts to tell me everything that is wrong with my positioning...

**A/N: Ah, nothing stirs up drama and romance like a hospital, eh? As unreliable as I am, the one thing that I can promise is more Blake/Andie/Edie in the next chapter. Much more! **

**Share thoughts?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I am back! And _not_ dead. But only a few people shared thoughts on the last chapter! Were the rest disappointed? _* cue sad face *_ It is all righty. Better luck with this one...**

**Chapter 13: Dream On**

**Blake **

With the lights dimmed and the room silent, save for the slow steady beep of monitors, this place is almost…cosy. But my brain seems incapable of shutting down right now. Moose and Sophie, on the other hand, are passed out in one chair, Andie and Chase in another. It boggles the mind how she sleeps through his snoring. The ability will prove useful in future anyway. Assuming that they have a future. Which might not necessarily be the case. Things change. Life happens...

"_Hey, Blake?_"

The next ten seconds are the closest I have ever come to cardiac arrest. "_You're awake?_"

"_Like I could sleep through his seven-Richter_ snores," Andie mutters, shifting a little.

"_Right_," I murmur, struggling to calm the tempo of my heart.

"Hey, Blake?"

"What?"

"You've been staring at him for like an hour now."

"I…it's not everyday that you see a parent in hospital."

"Not everyday."

I must have tripped over a raw nerve because something in her voice changes. I want to apologize, but she speaks before I can:

"Hey, Blake?"

"What?"

"How weird is it that I've never seen you dance?"

"You _have_ seen me dance."

"_Nope_. I've seen you _teach_ dance. But I've never seen _you_ dance."

"Well, you know what they say-" My head snaps down as Chuck looks up and winks a fully open, fully conscious eye. "Those who can't do, _teach_…"

**_Andie _**

"_Mr. Collins?_" I get up like somebody jabbed me with a cattle prod, waking Chase in the process. He mumbles something garbled and cracks his eyes open a little. Then a lot once he gets what might be going on.

"_Dad?_"

Chuck turns to us with this big, shit-eating grin. "_Morning_."

"It's _two o'clock_ in the morning," Blake snaps. "How long have you been awake?"

"Few hours," he says, all matter-of-fact. "Help me up, will you? I'm an invalid now."

They take one arm each, I kind of cradle his head, and we haul him up into a sitting position.

"Are you okay?"

"_Of course, he is_, Chase. I'd like to know why he pretended _not_ to be."

"I was _not _pretending. I fell asleep waiting for you to call your mother. She's toying with the idea of staying in Russia for another month and I figured my brush with death would discourage her."

"Well, it's good to know that _brain damage _hasn't affected your capacity for emotional blackmail."

Chuck holds out his hands. "I miss her, all right? And so does Chase."

"I do. I miss my mom. And I'm man enough to admit it. _Unlike some_."

They fix Blake with a scarily similar stare. He just scowls. "I thought you were seriously hurt."

"I was!"

"_What happened?_"

Chuck looks at me like a kicked puppy. "Well, Andie…as you may or may not know…Cybil Collins is a health food Nazi. She rules over my diet with an iron fist. There exists, however, a treasure trove of junk food, locked away in the highest cabinet of our kitchen, where no one can get to it without her key. But I got to it, _oh yes, I did_."

"How?"

"I climbed up onto a chair and broke it open with a screwdriver. It was very _gangsta_, you would have been proud."

"_Uh-huh_. And how were you gonna explain that to Mrs. Collins?"

"Well, seeing as you _are_ our resident juvenile delinquent, I thought I'd just blame it on you. Which reminds me...I didn't fall and crack my skull on the counter. You pistol-whipped me."

I start to laugh, but Blake gives me a look so fierce I almost swallow my tongue trying to stop. "Well, thanks for the bedtime story, Dad," he mutters. "But I think I've had enough excitement for one night."

"_Oh, come on, son_," Chuck grins at him. "I'm sorry for worrying you. But not everything has to be so _serious_. Can't we focus on the highpoints? I am conscious. _We _are talking."

"_Not anymore,_" he snaps, backing away.

"Blake, you can't leave. How's Dad gonna get home?"

"We can't discharge him tonight. We should _all _go home."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes, you are. Your brother's right. You shouldn't spend the night here."

"_I'm_ fine. Those two are practically catatonic. And Andie..."

Andie is freaking tired. Andie wants the cool comfort of an untouched mattress. But Andie can't say that with all of them looking at her...

"I promised Andie's guardian that she would be home as soon as possible. Isn't that right?"

I gape at them like a fish at the bottom of a boat, before choking out: "_Right_..."

Chuck nods. Chase just kind of jerks his head. "Well, that's settled then. We'll see you tomorrow. _Goodnight_."

Good night. Yeah. Not so much...

**Blake**

"Was I wrong back there? Am I wrong?"

Stupid question, but it needs an answer.

"You're just tired."

That I am. All the time. I feel tired before I get out of bed. Before I step foot in the school. And when I do, every minute of every hour of every day seems to move like molasses. Except for these moments, of course. When I'm with her. Time moves a lot faster when I'm with her...

_"So I feel like an asshole for thanking you, but_..."

"_You don't have to_. I did promise Sarah."

"Well, my crystal ball tells me she's waiting up. You wanna say hi?"

Yes. But..."No. I'll walk you to the door, though. I don't like the look of this street at night."

"That's really chivalrous of you, Blake," she smirks, sidling out of the car. "But I don't think there're any serial killers in the area. And if there are I'll go all _Crouching Tiger_ on their asses."

I don't doubt it. But to be on the safe side...

"How weird is it that the night ends with _you_ walking _me_ to the door?" she asks, slowing to a halt under the flickering yellow bulb. Her hair fell out of its carefully constructed updo a while ago and it falls around her face now, catching flecks of light.

"Well, I wasn't on a date. So the irony is lost on me."

"Is that irony? I mean..." She knocks twice. "They keep trying to explain it in English Lit, but I still don't get it. Are _we _ironic?"

"It depends. There are many different types of irony: Socratic, Romantic, cosmic..." She stares up at me like I just started speaking in Klingon, but the door swings open before I can elaborate.

"_Andie_," Sarah exhales. "_Blake_. How's your father?"

"Never been better. Or worse."

"Good," she says, tying up her nightgown. "All right, don't just stand out in the cold. Come have something to eat-"

"_Oh, no,_" I utter, stepping back. "No, thank you, Ms Walker. I have to head hom-"

"Is this about what happened the last time you were here?" she demands. "Let me assure you- that was an isolated incident. I _can_ cook. My lasagna is living proof of that."

"_You betta recognize_," Andie adds warningly.

"_I do_. I...I recognize. It's just that I'm not particularly hungry. And midnight snacking isn't very healthy. Cheese is actually known to induce nightmares..."

She raises a single eyebrow and I falter. Andie shakes her head and gestures for me to follow her in. Resistance is futile...

**_Andie _**

Sarah puts as much lasagne as two plates can hold in front of us, before saying goodnight and going to bed. She has to pull duty at Sunday school tomorrow. Today actually. But she gives me the day off, which is pretty cool of her. She's been pretty cool about a lot of things since MSA...

"_Alone at last_."

Blake gives me the ghost of a smile and picks at his food. I liberate my feet from Missy's shoes and turn on the TV. But there's nothing good on at this time. Nothing that a respectable gentleman such as himself would watch...

"So why is LC mad at Heidi?"

"Because Heidi is marrying Spencer and Spencer is the Antichrist."

"Then why is Heidi marrying him?"

"Because she sold her soul to Hollywood."

"And why do you waste your time on this?"

"_Hell if I know_..."

The clock is ticking way past three and neither of us has moved. Instead we talk about pointe shoes and Chuck and health food and Edie and not talking about Edie until we get too tired to say anything and just stare at the TV. An especially fierce catfight is going down when I hear this quiet rumbling sound coming from his end of the couch. It takes me a minute to realize that he really is asleep. Blake Collins is sleeping on my couch. His arms are crossed and his head is tilted back and his legs are stretched over the carpet. He is totally chilled out. Or totally burnt out. Either way, it's good to see him looking less homicidal. But he'd want me to wake him up. So I won't...

"_Night, night, Blake_," I murmur, crawling across the couch to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"What are you doing?"

My heart stops so fast I think I might have died for a second. "_You're awake_."

He opens his eyes and glares into mine. "You're kissing me."

"_It was a goodnight kiss_."

"No. _This is a goodnight kiss_..."

All I can think about for a second is how Missy was right about his hands. They feel like big warm baseball mitts against my face as he pulls me into him and-

And I wake up like a drowning victim, my breathing all shallow and my heart beating like it needs to make up for lost time. What. The. Hell. Was. That? I look over to see Blake still asleep. Asleep and definitely _not _kissing me. Okay. _No more__ cheese before bed..._

**Author's Note: I cannot apologise enough for the obscenely long wait :( But I have a good reason for it! Well...maybe not a _good_ reason... **

**The thing is...I tend to hate myself as a writer. And I mean _hate_. I become convinced that my writing is an embarrassment, that I will let you down, that I will let Blake and Andie down...and then I curl up into ball and hide until the feeling goes away. Usually it only takes a few days. But nowadays it takes weeks, months even. I don't like waiting that long and I know you don't either and I am very sorry...**

**But on a lighter note! The Wise and Wonderful Moose made a passing comment that DC (Blake) is burnt out. I think that he is. And all he needs is Andie to set him on fiyah! Also, you'll probably remember Andie remarking, "It's like I've landed in an episode of The Hills" during that same scene. So that's where that came from. Please do share thoughts :) **


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Yay for updates! Hope you likey…**

**Chapter 14: Once More With Feeling**

**Blake**

I feel like I blinked rather than slept, but when I crack open my eyes a fraction of an inch sunlight creeps in. I groan a little and struggle against whatever Andie mummified me in earlier. This is not good. This is very not good. I should have left hours ago. I should have done a lot of things that I always forget to do with her distracting me. But if I can at least get out of here before she wakes up…

"_Morning, Blakey_."

Never mind. "_Morning, Andie_."

"You want breakfast before we go?" she asks, hopping down the stairs in her usual sportswear.

"We just ate."

"I ate. You nibbled like a rabbit. The smell must have been strong, though," she grimaces, stopping a few feet shy of me. "There is a hint of _cheddar_ about your person."

I resist the urge to check for myself but she laughs like she knows that I want to. "_Not funny_."

"_Oooh_," she drawls in a low, teasing voice. "Somebody got up on the wrong side of the couch."

"_Still not funny_."

"_All right, all right_…seriously now. We should stop by your place on the way to the hospital. You look like death reheated."

"Gee, Andie, tell me what you _really_ think."

She bites back a grin and I roll my eyes, walking around her to get my coat. When I look back she's staring like she's never seen me before. "What?"

She blinks. "_What_ what?"

"_What?_"

Andie snorts and shakes her head. "Let's go."

I open the door and follow her out without another word, but cannot shake the feeling that she had something to tell me…

_**Andie **_

In my almost 18 years of existence I have done some pretty bad stuff. And I owned up to all of it, if only to put an end to the torture of skulking around, waiting to get caught. But where do I get the chutzpah to own up to something that never happened? And how do I get over feeling bad about it? Especially when it felt kind of good at the time…

"Do I have something on my face?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring again."

"Oh…no. I'm not staring. I'm…contemplating."

"Contemplating what?"

"What…to get you for your birthday."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"_Better late than never_. And anyway…what do you get the guy that has everything?"

"I don't have everything."

"_Bull_," I go on, happy for a diversion. "You have a job. A job that kicks your ass but you have one. You have a family that loves you. As much as you hate to hear it. You have friends with a high tolerance for your bitching…what more could you want?"

Blake smirks, shakes his head… "I don't know. Maybe _that special someone_…" and looks at me in a way that makes me freeze like a doe in the headlights. "What? What now?"

For this batshit crazy moment I want to tell him. I want to tell him that I had a dream about him touching me in a non-professional way. I want to tell him that right now he looks like he did then and it is freaking me out. I actually want to tell him. Like I do about everything else, whether or not he wants to hear it…

"_You have spinach in your teeth_."

Blake frowns and turns away to check for imaginary vegetation in the mirror. I lean back in my seat and stifle a groan. Everything else is not like this. This is a comet-sized epiphany crashing into my consciousness:

Blake Collins is hot.

**Blake**

She walks in like she just landed on an alien planet and it occurs to me that Andie has never seen where I live. I watch her drift in and out of the living room, the kitchen, the coat closet…and find myself biting back the urge to ask her to stop. Being observed so makes me feel a little…"naked" might be the wrong word…

"Blake, this place is _epic_. Why didn't you have your party here?"

"90% of the people there were 'friends of the family'."

"I'm a friend of the family, aren't I?"

"You're an actual friend. The rest were acquaintances. Thinking of them here made me uncomfortable. That being said I _would_ prefer it if you-"

"Too bad," she interjects, popping into sight like a Whack-A-Mole. "I mean, I get that you have a thing for personal space. But this is _a lot_ of space to keep to yourself. Is that the only piece of furniture you own?" she asks, disappearing again before I can answer. When I find her she is staring up at the music shelf against one wall…

"No," I say, joining her by The Verve. "I have chairs. And a…bed." She only glances at me, but it lasts long enough to make me feel like my brain is short-circuiting.

"CDs…" Andie continues, oblivious to my discomfort, "and _vinyl_? You are a real old-timer, huh?"

"Well, I _was_ born before the iPod…"

"Oh, so you've heard of the iPod?"

"I try to keep up."

She looks both amused and bemused. "You know that you're not really old, right? Old enough to teach, sure, but still young enough to learn."

"_How profound_."

"I know, right? That's your fortune cookie wisdom for today."

I nod, trying not to look too gratified. "I'm going to take a shower. Stay down here, will you?"

"_Aw_, and there was me planning to go with you." What felt like a short circuit before is more like a complete meltdown now. It must show because Andie laughs in my face. "Chillax, Blake, I kid! I've seen it all before anyway. Or…half of it all." I start to rack my brain for any one time when she could have seen half of anything but she clarifies: "Big ol' Swan Lake picture in the hallway at MSA? _Not very modest_."

I cringe at the thought and she sniggers, endlessly entertained by my distress. "I'll be done in a minute. _Don't touch anything_…"

_**Andie**_

'And there was me planning to go with you?' What the hell is _wrong_ with me? Why does every word out of my mouth sound flirty all of a sudden? Do I always talk like this? If I do I have to stop. Right now…

"All done," Blake announces, strolling into the kitchen where I sit, eyeing a fruit bowl on the counter. "Shall we?"

I glance at him…and then do a double take. He is wearing a blue sweater. With jeans. My eyes need a minute to adjust to the sight of him in colors other than black and white.

"Andie, why do you keep staring at me like I have leprosy?"

"_Sorry_," I mumble. "It's just weird seeing you out of uniform."

"Well, don't get used to it," he mutters, picking a bright red apple from the bowl and walking out. I stumble after him, trying to drag my gaze away from those freaking denims and anything in them…

"_Sleep well?_"

For somebody that sleeps like a dinosaur, Chase doesn't look particularly recharged. Chuck looks fresh out of a spa treatment. And Edie looks good. So good I can never imagine her looking bad. Hard as I try…

"I asked you to call me as soon as anything changed," she says, sounding indignant.

"I didn't want to wake you," says Blake.

"I didn't sleep. I was too worried. But your brother called this morning."

"_Yeah_. And I asked her to bring Dad some clean clothes. It was very considerate of me."

"Chase-"

"_Where're Moose and Sophie?_" I ask, trying to stamp out anymore incendiary statements.

"I sent them home," Chuck helps. "They did their time…"

There's nothing angry or accusatory in his voice. And it makes me feel even guiltier…

"Hey, sorry for ditching you last night, Mr. C. I know how lonely these places can get…"

"There is _nothing_ to be sorry about," he assures. "The house is actually lonelier than the hospital right now. But I talked to Cybil and if the good doctor gives me the all clear I will be back in time to throw her a homecoming party…"

Dr. Hunt walks in just as my cell rings and "Diary of Jane" bounces off the walls of the quiet room. He turns his steely blue eyes on me and I walk out, wincing my apologies.

"Missy-"

"D! Sarah told me about Mr. Collins! Is he okay? Is Chase okay? And Blake?"

"Missy, it's cool. He just hit his head. He'll be out of here soon."

"_Really_?" She exhales. "Okay, cool. Moms is givin' me the evil eye for usin' my phone at church so I gotta go. See you tomorrow?"

"Maybe the day after? I have after school sessions with Blake tomorrow…" Oh, shit. I have after school sessions with Blake tomorrow.

"All right. Catch you lata-"

"Hey, Missy?" I blurt out before she hangs up. "Do you ever…have you ever had dreams of a…romantic nature?"

"What, like sex dreams?"

"No! There was no sexing. Just…have you ever had a dream about somebody you're not supposed to have dreams about?"

"Girl, those are the best ones!"

"Maybe…but they don't have to mean anything, right? They could just be the result of bad cheese or whatever…"

"I guess so. Between you and me, I had this freaky dream about Pee Wee Herman- oh, snap, Pedro just walked by- anyway I was sweet on him for while after that…so who was yours about? Not Chase obviously."

"Can't say. _Won't_. Too cringeworthy."

"Aw, dude, you suck! And not in a good way…"

"Missy, you are so freaking nasty…"

"_You know you love it_…"

I hang up, turn round and feel my smiley face shatter at the sight of Chase, lurking behind me. He looks not angry, which may or may not be a good thing…

"So this isn't really the right time or place," he says, approaching carefully, "but after last night I figured there might never _be_ a right time or place. I mean life is short, right? And why I am taking relationship advice from _Blake?_ The guy can barely keep his own _family_ together."

"Huh?" I say, only really grasping the fact that he must have missed my conversation with Missy. Thank you, God…

"I was going to give this to you after what was going to be our romantic Italian dinner. But that didn't go according to plan so…" He reaches into his pocket and draws out a silver chain (ooh, shiny) with two letters on the end…AC. Air conditioning? Or Andie and Chase. Yeah, that makes more sense… "Happy first date."

I smile stupidly and let him put it on me. It feels cold but I touch like it might burn me. "I didn't get you anything."

"All I want from you is commitment. Andie West…will you be my girlfriend?"

Oh, wow. This must be it. "Do you even have to ask?"

His mouth is still smiling when it presses against mine. "Uh…" I utter when he pulls back. "What was that you said about Blake?"

"He said you wouldn't like it. But what does he know?"

A lot more than either of us apparently. He was totally right.

**A/N: Thankee sai to all who are reading and reviewing! It is heartening to see that there are Blandie shippers out there, supporting the cause…**

**Now if all who read, wrote (romance fics, humor fics, friendship fics, AU fics, future fics, all revolving around- or at least involving- Blake and Andie), I would jizz with joy. I know that there are writers who could voice these characters better than I. Not fishing for compliments here, I really know this… **

**Or maybe we need more fics about the supporting characters: Moose, Sophie, Fly, Kido, Hair, Smiles, Cable, Monster…they all deserve to be fleshed out. This archive deserves to be fleshed out. Because Andie and Chase are hot, no doubt about it, but their story has been told…**

**So if you can, please do! **


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: "Young teacher/the subject/of schoolgirl fantasy/She wants him/so badly/knows what she wants to be…"**

**THE SAGA CONTINUES! **

**Chapter 15: Don't Stand So Close To Me **

**Blake **

"From 9:00 to 12:00 you have lessons. From 12:15 to 13:00 you have the staff meeting. From 13:00 to 13:30 you have lunch and _yes_, you are required to eat something. From 13:30 to 14:00 you have a conference call with Messieurs Chirac and Bourdain. From 14:00 to 15:00 you have the orchestra's recital. From 15:00 to 16:00 you have afterschool sessions with Miss West..._and from eight o'clock you have dinner with Edie Moss_."

"All righ…wait. _What?_"

Abigail grimaces at my glare. "Miss Moss called and asked me to put that on your schedule."

"So you did because you work for _her_ now?"

"She really needs to see you…"

"Well, what if I had other plans tonight? Did it ever occur to her, _or you_, that I might have other plans tonight?"

"Blake, if you had other plans tonight they would be on your schedule."

I start to argue her point, realize that it is a good one, and stop. "I'm not going."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"So I should change 'candlelit dinner for two' to 'TV dinner for one'?"

"Please do."

"And from 20:00 to the rest of your life I have you scheduled for loneliness and depression."

"Sounds great. Anything else?"

"But of course. Sundaii from Planet Dance dropped this off." She emerges from her desk with a powder pink box and hands it over.

"Thank you."

"Thank _you_. That is the first happy face of the week. To what- or whom do we owe the pleasure?"

She smiles stealthily now, waiting for me to let slip some sort of secret. She will have to wait a while because there is nothing here worth hiding.

That being said…this does edge over the outskirts of professionalism into personal territory. And I feel inclined to defend that with my life…

"None of your business. _Your_ business is at that desk. So I suggest you go back to it. Unless Miss Moss really does have you on her payroll."

Abby holds her hands up in mock surrender and retreats. "_If only she did_…"

_**Andie **_

_Reasons Why Blake Cannot Be Hot_

- He's old enough to be my older brother

- He IS Chase's older brother

- He's an obsessive compulsive, anal retentive, control freak (seriously, slippers?)

_Reasons Why Blake Could Maybe Possibly In A Parallel Universe Be Hot_

- Missy says he is

- Girls in class say he is

- Guys in class say he is

- And the laws of physics…

"_Yo!_" Moose hails, materializing at his locker. "What's that?"

"Homework," I lie, shoving the notebook into mine.

"Nerd. I was talking about the _bling-bling_."

"Oh. That. Chase gave it to me," I elaborate, practicing my smile. "It's a symbol or whatever."

"A symbol for bad taste?"

"What? What do you mean _bad taste?_ Chase has good- he has _great_ taste!"

Moose holds up his hands like I have a gun aimed at him. "_Dude_, pop a chill pill. I just don't like it on you."

"Well…" I want to defend his honor, like a good girlfriend would, but… "I don't like it on me either."

"Then _why_ are you wearing it?"

"Because there has to be _some_ give and take if we want to be happy, right?"

"Yeah, but…how much are you gonna have to give and take away?"

The warning bell blares just then, saving me from anymore couples counseling. "_Later, Phil_," I mutter, making a note to brush off his advice…

Which feels like the wrong thing to do, seeing as he might be right. But I don't need him to be right. I need him to be on our side.

Because I know Blake won't be…

**Blake **

If I had known that the staff meeting would turn into 45 minutes of bickering over salaries and that the cafeteria would run out of watercress and that the Messieurs had no intention of "funding the family business" and that this day would be so amazingly _awful_, I might have called in sick…

But then I would have missed what is fast becoming the best part of my day…

"So what are we doing today?"

"Expanding your skill set."

"That sounds painful."

It will be. I start to say as much, but my train of thought is derailed suddenly by the chain glinting around her neck. It would be unremarkable, except for the fact that she would never pay good money for anything like it…

"Do you do all your shoplifting at Tiffany's?"

She must have seen my mockery coming a mile away because she automatically goes on the defensive. "It is a _gift_."

"Did you keep the receipt?" I ask, approaching with as much caution as I would a cornered cat.

"Why would I want to return it?"

"Because that looks like Air Conditioning."

"It stands for-"

"Andie and Chase, of course. You have officially severed half of your identity in order to become part of the whole. _Tr_è_s romantique_."

For a moment she looks just about ready to scratch my eyes out…but it passes as she looks down and frowns. "This is the nicest thing a guy has ever done for me."

"He can do better than that." She stays strategically silent in response and it occurs to me that if she does feel bad about this I am only making her feel worse. So I should just leave well enough alone. I should…"Tell him you hate it."

"_I_ love it. _You_ hate it."

"Tell him the truth or tell him white lies for the rest of your relationship."

"_Our_ relationship is none of your business."

"Says Miss Teen Overshare 2009!"

"_Director Collins_," she retorts, deliberately dragging out the title. "What's in that box?"

I falter for a minute, like she slammed a door in my face, but recover in time… "Pointe shoes. For you."

"From you?" she asks, letting slip a look of surprise.

"From the school," I half lie, feeling uncomfortable with the whole truth. The whole truth being that they are from me, to her, and if they end up being the second nicest thing a guy has ever done for her my pride will drop dead…

"Well, thanks anyway, Blake."

"You're welcome anyway. Andie…"

_**Andie **_

When I think about it (when will I _stop_ thinking about it?) me and Blake have gotten plenty cozy over the past few months: at the Streets, at his party, every other day in class. And this…this is nothing compared to that. But it _feels_ like something. My mind had to go give him a makeover and now every little thing feels like something…

"In order to dance safely," he starts, getting down on one knee and gesturing for me to follow, "it is crucial that you put your shoes on correctly. Watch and learn…"

Easier said than done. Tying these things is like rigging the ropes on a tent and I try to focus, to train my eyes down, but they keep drifting up to his face. He is so close I could count his eyelashes…and the little lines in his lips…

"I'm not defusing a bomb, Andie, don't look so intense."

Well, it is kind of hard to look cool when we are within kissing distance. I want to say so, just to swipe the smirk off his face, but that would make kissing him seem like a possibility in this reality. And it is NOT. So I shut up and get up so fast you'd think someone set the floor on fire.

"How do they feel?"

"Like cardboard?"

"_Good_."

"But they look so soft and girly on real ballerinas."

"Illusion. The point of pointe shoes is illusion. Before them a Frenchman named Charles Didelot built a kind of flying machine to lift dancers up onto their toes. Audiences enjoyed the effect and choreographers started incorporating pointework into their pieces…"

So this is interesting and important stuff. This is good enough to keep me tethered to earth…

"Around the 20th century a Russian dancer named Anna Pavlova…"

But I must have ten senses or something because his aftershave is completely fogging up my head. I am, like, high on how good he smells right now…

"All right. _En pointe_."

"_Huh?_"

"That is Pig Latin for _stand on your toes_."

"I can barely stand on my feet."

"Did I not mention that you have a lot of catching up to do?"

"Yeah, but…at least let me break them in first."

"The best way to break them in is to dance in them." I must look as convinced as I feel because he goes on: "Or you could take the easy route and beat them into submission, heat them to soften the glue, dampen the toe boxes, consequently shortening their life span." I am liking the look of that easy route when he adds: "You are the only girl in my class that cannot dance _en pointe_."

No fair! Those girls have been tiptoeing almost as long as they've been walking. I barely have two years to figure this out. And what ballet company is going to give me a second look- forget about a second chance- with dancers like Sophie and Jimmie around? I mean, that is what we're working for, right? We're talking about going pro here…

"I don't know if I'm good enough."

"You won't know unless you try."

"But…"

Any other halfass arguments and excuses I had die away the minute he takes hold of my waist and steers me to the _barre_. He's done this a couple of times before. But this is the first time I'm tuned in to how insanely intimate it is. And how tuned out he must be to not feel what I feel. His hands are all warm and firm. Mine are sweaty and shaky. His breathing is slow and steady. Mine is so strained I feel just about ready to pass out…

"Relax," he mutters, somewhere near my ear. "You are good enough. You're _better_ than good. And if you were to fail it would be because I'm a bad teacher."

The thought that he could think that almost makes me laugh. He's not a bad teacher. He's a very good teacher. The best. And hot or not, I don't want to let him down…

So I don't. By the time four o'clock rolls around my toes are bent up like pretzels. But the pain is kind of pleasing. Before I can gloat about what a rock star I am the studio door swings open and Chase struts in…

"School's out."

"Not for another five minutes."

"I have to take her home now."

"We're _not_ done."

"Well, when will you be? I've been hanging around since two o'clock."

"Nobody asked you to."

"So what, _you'll_ take her?"

Blake turns to look at me, like I should answer the question. He better look elsewhere because there is no way I am getting caught in the crossfire…

"_I'll take the bus_."

From the way he shakes his head I might as well have offered to go home in a hearse. "No. I'll see you tomorrow."

I start to thank him for easing up, but Chase takes my hand, sidetracking me. This is the first official holding of the hand. This is a good thing. I should feel good about this. But when Blake glances down at our linked fingers and then up at the ceiling, I have to resist the ungirlfriendly urge to let go. Damn it. Why does he have to make me feel bad about something that is so completely good for me? If he was any kind of friend he would stop sniffing at everything I do and start telling me what I want to hear. And if _I_ was any kind of friend I would quit thinking about how his fingers graze mine as he hands over my duffel bag…

Holy hell. I am in trouble.

**A/N: Happy birthday to me, 'cause I just turned 20! Like two months ago, but b-day reviews would still be appreciated **_**mucho**_**…**

**Also, SU3D! I have yet to watch it, but it obviously revived the archive, what with all the CaMoose fics popping up. This means that in the canon verse Moose and Sophie break up or never even hook up :/ But **_**that**_** means Sophie and a certain someone else could reconnect ;) Another fic, for another day…**

**Anywho! You might remember Abigail from a few chapters ago (and from the movie). She is the blonde that follows Blake into the vandalized studio, then calls Andie to his ****office, then tries to speak up at the fundraiser, when he goes all "I must put a stop to this urban dance business!" She almost says something, but because she is nothing more than a background character, Sophie steals her shine… **

**What did y'all think? **


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: **_**Previously on Bring Me Flowers…Edie the Evil Ex continued to stalk Blake, Andie and Blake got too close for comfort, Chase tried to make an honest woman out of Andie, Moose gave Andie some words of wisdom, Abigail scheduled stuff… **_

**You know it has been too damn long when I feel obliged to give a recap :P ****As a gift to those who have waited patiently, refraining all the while from sending me the hate mail that I so richly deserve, I present…a twofer! Which is not enough to make up for x months (I am too scared to actually count the amount of time that has passed) without an update. I hope you had a merry Christmas, Kwanza, Diwali, Hanukah, or Eid, and pray that God, Buddha, Allah, or the Flying Spaghetti Monster makes your new year a happy one! **

**Check it… **

**Chapter 16: Afterschool Special **

**Blake **

The teacher has become the student. Which is funny (funny strange, not funny haha) considering I have been dancing longer than she has been alive. But what I learned at school today is that years of experience do not a good dancer make. I asked a lot of her, maybe too much, but she exceeded my expectations. She surprised me. And I usually hate surprises…

The next few days slip away like a half-remembered dream and I wake up to Andie asking why our studio is locked.

"Time to redecorate."

"Hm. The graffiti _was_ a little much, huh?"

"Just a little…"

Before I became a teacher, when I actually was a student, my parents taught me how not to have favorites. They taught me this by never acknowledging me as their son, in all my years at MSA. They never praised my efforts or awarded me any honors. They could never be seen to do so because if they were, I would never be taken seriously.

That is why I find it so very easy to be hard on Chase. That and he is an arrogant ass I might occasionally hate were I not morally obligated to love him. At any rate, everything else comes easy to him: friends, family…Andie…

Who just so happens to be the only person in my life lately that I _want_ to see every day. That I think about before I see her name on my schedule. Chuck and Cybil may or may not frown on that as favoritism. But I would never treat her differently. I just…feel differently about her.

"Is everyone here?"

"If 'everyone' means 'Jimmie'…" Chase drawls.

"Are you ever _not _talking?" He sticks his tongue out at me and I roll my eyes away from him, to the door. "We're still missing someone…"

And sure enough, someone rushes in three minutes later, discarding her bag and apologizing for her tardiness.

"Soph!" Moose yelps. "What're you doing here?"

"_Good question_," she says, positioning herself next to him. "Director Collins?"

They all turn to me now, eyes carrying the inquiry like a crowd surfer. "Miss Donovan has been borrowed to help Mr. Alexander with his partnering. But very few of you have perfected your _pas-de-deux_ so I expect you all to be on your toes. In a manner of speaking. Jodie, you'll work with me today…"

She looks as happy to not partner with him as he is to partner with Sophie. But Andie makes a clownish sad face from across the room and shrugs. My thoughts exactly…

_**Andie **_

I would be a big ole liar who lies if I denied being bummed right now. Not about being with Jimmie…just about _not_ being with Blake. I must be spending too much time with him (or not enough) because it kind of bugs me when I see him with somebody else. Anybody else. Which sounds a lot like something a bunny-boiler would say…

But hey, check out that bright side! I have never seen Moose so happy to be in this class. It might not last long, but the sight of him and Soph stokes the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest…

"Good, good…could be better…but good. Now," he stops prowling and speaks to all of us. "I want to turn your attention to something very important…" Pause for dramatic effect… "_The senior showcase_: a definitive moment in your school career. Representatives from some of the best companies in the country will be there, scouting out the best dancers in the year."

Wow. This is a lot like déjà vu, only I actually remember what it reminds me of: that first day in class, when he was waxing lyrical about the fundraiser in lieu of the showcase. I never doubted my dancing before then. But all I had to fight for before then was clubs and competitions, where the only judges were my friends…

"Who is Nora Clark?"

As tiny as Sophie is, her hand seems to shoot up above all the others.

"The best ballet dancer MSA has ever had…_so far_."

"And who is Tyler Gage?"

Chase throws an arm up and answers before he can be ignored.

"The best _hip-hop_ dancer MSA has ever had. So far."

"They were also the most and least likely to succeed, with only one thing in common: they both got their start here, in this school, in these studios. You all have the same opportunity to prove why _you_ can do what thousands of others cannot. So for your sakes as well as mine, _don't screw it up_."

And with that touching spiel, we conclude…

**Blake **

They look more scared than inspired as they leave, but I was speaking more for the benefit of Moose and Andie regardless. They need to know that classical dance is not as elitist as they think it is. As I thought it was…

"And what do _you_ know about Tyler Gage, huh?"

She's helping me pack up today, for which I am a little grateful, a lot uncomfortable. I don't like people touching my things…

"Only what I read in the report Director Gordon left me. I _did_ meet him once or twice, though. On the second occasion he threatened to shank me if I denied you an audition."

"…you kid?"

"_I kid._ He actually threatened to shoot me."

She laughs a little, but it's labored and barely starts before it stops. In the silence that follows she stares at her shoes, tugs on her ponytail, chews her bottom lip until it turns vaguely red…

"What is it?"

"I…have a message for you," she announces.

"And…?"

"You are cordially invited to the Welcome Home dinner of Cybil Jean Collins."

"Hm. My horoscope _did_ tell me to anticipate psychological torture this month…"

"Oh, what-ever," she scoffs. "Your mum's been gone for months now; don't tell me you haven't missed her at all. Seriously, _don't_," she adds when I open my mouth to object. "I'll hurt you." I nod in silence. "I was also told to tell you to turn up early. We're gonna cook."

"Why? We pay people to do that for us."

"Okay, first: way to sound like a pampered prince. Second: it would be a pretty weak welcome if you just handed it over to the _staff_." She may have a point there, but I am in no mood to admit it. She must see me weakening anyway because she presses on, more gently now. "If it's any consolation, I'll be there."

"Edie, too, I suppose."

She shrugs. "Cybil will probably want to see her. Hey, it could be fun. Like a triple date!"

"You sound brainwashed."

"Dude, don't shoot the messenger. I'm doing this for Chuck, who knows you won't talk to him, and Chase, who thinks you'll be a party pooper whether you show or not. They wanted me to use my 'feminine wiles' on you."

"That will be no mean feat, considering you don't have any."

"_What?_" she exclaims, shoving my shoulder. "I can bat my eyelashes with the best of 'em, buddy!"

"Not without looking like you're suffering a seizure," I smirk, anticipating her next assault.

But it doesn't come. She pulls back, eyeing me like I killed her dog. "I don't have feminine wiles?"

I cough, but it barely covers up the laugh underneath it. "_Of course, you do_. You have more feminine wiles than should be legal at your age."

She lets slip a grin that is borderline bashful and I have to remind myself not to forget where the line is. "So are you coming or not?"

"Do I really have a choice?"

"_Good answer_…"

_**Andie **_

"Well, that only took forever!"

"You waited for me?"

"Yes. But our beaus had to beat it before their next classes."

"Sorry," I sigh, stepping out into the hallway with her. "I had to ask him something."

"You mean you had to invite him to Cybil's party," Sophie says, unraveling her hair so that it falls around her face like something out of a shampoo commercial. "Which _I_ will not be attending. I guess his family dumped me, too, huh?"

"_Oh_," I utter stupidly. "Uh…"

"Gotcha!" she grins. "God, can you imagine how insanely awkward it would be for me to crash your group date? I'd rather have SpaghettiOs with Robert and his mum."

Yeah, me too. "Speaking of Moose, how's your partnership going?"

"Better than it went with _Jodie_. She had no faith in him so he had no faith in himself. Partnerships are all about trust, commitment. And speaking of commitment, _cute necklace_."

"Wha-? Oh. Yeah. Chase."

"I can see that. So he asked you to be his boo?" I nod. "Game over! _You win_."

"And this is my prize?"

"I guess. Only one other girl in recorded history has claimed the personalized pendant."

"Am I talking to her right now?"

"_The legend lives_," she proclaims, then catches my eye and leans over to nudge me. "Hey. Don't worry about it, okay? That was a while ago."

"No, it's not that. I just…this thing didn't exactly seal the deal for you guys."

"It wouldn't. It's a piece of metal. It only has as much meaning as you give it. So…what does it mean to you?"

What _does _it mean...? It means he is mine and I am his and we are a "we" now. Andie _and_ Chase. Tied together, freaking _chained_ together. It means restriction and rules, like "Thou shalt not covet thy boyfriend's brother." It means no Blake, ever…

"Hello? Hello-_o?_ Earth to Andie! Geez, I didn't ask for the meaning of life. What does it mean?"

I stare at her hopelessly and croak: "_Hell if I know_."

**A/N: One of the SU2 trailers on YouTube shows Blake telling Andie to wear more "appropriate attire" in his class. It bugs the hell out of me that that (and maybe many more Blandie moments) is sitting on a cutting room floor somewhere, gathering dust. It just doesn't seem right! Also, there was a cute little deleted scene where Sophie picked Andie up from school but instead of taking her home, dropped her off at Chase's place. I love frienemies…**

**Anywho! By now most of you will have heard about Black Swan. It must be watched! The cast is amazing and the story revolves around two dancers vying for the lead role in Swan Lake, as well as the affection of their dance director, while a lot of messed up supernatural/psychological stuff is going on in the background…**

**Thanks for being interested in this if not that :-)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: The last supper!**

**Check it (again)…**

**Chapter 17: Kitchen Confidential **

**Blake **

If Cybil found out it has been a whole year since I cooked anything other than coffee I would never hear the end of it. Between cafeteria lunches and work dinners and hasty takeout there was never any time to do so. But there is plenty of it now. Three hours to be exact. _180 minutes_ with my father, my brother, my ex and my student, playing happy families and trying to not stab myself with a bread knife…

Andie opens the door before I can knock and stands there, wearing a Snoopy apron and a winning grin.

I smile, despite myself. "Why are you answering their door?"

"_Su casa es mi casa!_"

"_Por supuesto_…may I come in?" I ask, when she fails to budge.

"Are you going to make nice?"

"Where are they?"

"Up to their elbows in dead duck." I start to step forward, but she holds her ground, pushing me back a little. "They're excited. And happy. Try not to ruin it, okay?" Under the pressure of her hand it occurs to me how much faster my heart is beating. I can hear it in my head, drowning out the sound of her voice… "Come on, Blake, _please_," she insists, but all I am conscious of is her pressing harder. She must have been handling something warm because I can feel the heat seeping through my shirt.

"_Fine_," I mutter, swatting at her. If there is anything I hate more than people touching my things it is people touching me. Especially when I don't hate it as much as I should…

"_Fine_," she mimics, smiling so infectiously I literally feel like I caught some kind of fever from her. It takes me a second to recover enough to follow her to the kitchen, from which sounds similar to that of a nuclear power plant emit…

_**Andie **_

My last attempt at cooking almost burnt the house down. It was "Macaroni and Cheesecake", which sounded a lot easier when my Mum did it, but turned the oven into a campfire when I tried to make it for Charlie. After that Sarah banned me from doing anything without her permission and supervision. I wasn't cool with any of those things so I just stopped. Right now, though, I wish I had let her tell me what to do…

Poison Edie strides and glides round the kitchen like a domestic goddess (or a drill sergeant) while I read recipes like they're Cliffsnotes, trying to decipher the obnoxiously fancy French terms.

Every time I look at her I feel second-rate somehow, like I'm at an audition or a competition and it's over before it even started…

"All right, Chase can handle the starter, Charles will do the main, Blake is on dessert duty, I will set the table, and Andie…"

"Is doing what she does best," I say dutifully. "Dishes."

Blake glances up from what looks more like an art project than food and smirks faintly. The familiarity is kind of inviting and I abandon my post at the dishwasher to bug him.

"Whatcha makin'?"

"Neapolitan Semifreddo."

"Can I try it?"

"Of course," he mutters, eyeing it like a sculptor. "After dinner."

"Ugh, I _hate_ waiting. Just gimme a little."

"_No_."

"Why?"

"Because I _said_ s- my God, you're like a child!"

"_Like_ a child?" Edie scoffs from her corner of the room.

My head snaps in her direction and I want to tell her where she can go with her hoity-toity voice and her fake flamey hair. But this is not how a lady handles her business, according to Sarah. So I bite my tongue, breathe in through my nose and- when it seems safe to open my mouth- ask if she needs help with anything.

She says no, but crosses the space between us and peers around his shoulder.

"As resident health inspector," she says, neat white teeth sticking out from her Hollywood lips, "it is my duty to taste-test anything set to leave this kitchen."

Blake looks at her for a second, then at the spoon in his hand…my mouth drops open as he places it politely in hers. She smiles around it and pulls back, glancing at me before swaying away to check on Chase…

I only realize how near my jaw is to the floor when he reaches under my chin and taps it, making my teeth clack together. "Something the matter?"

I glance over my shoulder, before leaning in to him and hissing, "You say no to me but yes to _her?_"

He shrugs. "You told me to play nice."

Not _that_ nice! He knew what I meant. He just wanted to piss me off. And what gets to me is that he isn't failing. Nobody but Chase should make me this mad…

"Chuck," I utter, my voice practically creaking under the strain of keeping calm. "Could I use your bathroom?"

"Course you can, sweetheart."

I'm out the door before he can ask if I know how to find it…

**Blake **

I had no idea how much energy I exhausted being self-righteously angry until I stopped for a second. Warming up to Edie after this excessive cold spell was almost…cathartic. I should thank Andie for that. I would thank her. But she's not back yet. And she might punch me in the throat if she were. Rightly so. I only did it to irritate her. It worked better than I had expected…

"Is she lost?" Chase asks, on a tangent.

"The house isn't that big," Chuck chuckles.

"But it does have many rooms," I remark.

"Well, I still know my way around," says Edie. "I shall form a one-woman search party and rescue her."

"_No_," I snap, pushing away from the kitchen island. She raises an eyebrow and I add, in a more blunt tone, "You're a guest. You should relax. Right after you set the table..."

She's been gone too long to be in the bathroom, so she must be snooping. Not on the first floor, or the second, or...oh, no...

"Andie," I call up the creaky staircase. "You're not in there, are you?"

"..._no_. I'm throwing my voice from the bathroom."

I roll my eyes, and place a foot on the first step, testing my weight before climbing up.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"This was yours?" she asks, seeming to address the trophy she just picked up off my dresser.

"Believe it or not," I mutter, prying it from her fingers and placing it back among the rest, "I _am _related to these people. I lived here, too."

"Why did you live in an attic?"

"Because they wouldn't convert the basement and this was the only other place where I could feel alone."

"_Jeez, Blake_," she grimaces, moving away to open the only window available, letting in much needed air. "The more I get to know, the less I believe you _are _related to these people. What I _would _believe is you're the sole survivor of an ancient vampire clan, and you sought refuge with the Collinses. I bet you didn't even sleep in that bed. You just turned into a bat and hung from the rafters. And your initials...BC? Are you Blake Collins? Or are you..._Before Christ?_"

"Interesting theory. But I always felt more like a ghost here than anything else."

"Patrick Swayze ghost or Poltergeist ghost?"

"Are you still mad?"

"...kind of furious actually."

"Why, because I gave her _ice cream_ instead of you? A little childish, no?"

"I'm _not _a-"

"What you _are _is jealous," I say, surprising myself with the sudden revelation as much as her.

A beat passes before she narrows her eyes at me, leaning back against the windowsill with what I assume is meant to be casualness. When she speaks again her tone is deceptively low: "And how do you figure that?"

Let me count the ways... "You don't like me paying attention to her. You don't like sharing. Suffice it to say you'd rather have me all to yourself."

"_Oh, please!_"

"You don't have to beg," I insist, taking advantage of the chance to get under her skin as much as she gets under mine.

"You-! Ugh..." she exhales, mid-tantrum and pushes away from the ledge wearily. She takes a few steps forward, eyes cast downward. "I have nothing to worry about. _I _am your friend. She is your ex-girlfriend. Homies over hoes. Right?"

"Yeah...that..."

She smiles with a softness that is more than a little unsettling, but nothing compared to what happens next. For a moment it takes me back to that night at The Streets, when she forgot herself and threw her arms around my shoulders. Only this time she winds them around my waist, pressing her cheek against my chest, while I stand there like a mannequin with my arms hovering over her.

"_Wow_," she mutters. "You having a coronary or what?"

"I don't like..." people touching me. But that would be a lie, in this case. With this person...

"What," she grins up at me, "homies can't hug?"

When I don't reply (or move or breathe) she steps back, surveying me shrewdly. "Man...you are stone cold." If only. "Come on. Let's get downstairs before they send out a rescue party..."

_**Andie**_

_Ladies and gentlemen, watch in awe as the Amazing Andie gets inappropriately intimate with a guy that is NOT her boyfriend! And for her next act: base-jumping without a parachute! Which is only slightly less scary..._

Oy. Talk about a moment of madness. I must have freaked him the hell out because he is totally silent on the trip back. Edie is in the dining room when we get down, and I am kind of a little relieved to see her there, just to have something else to focus on.

I try to give the cool friendly thing a good shot, but when she looks up at us, at me, green eyes honing in like she has X-Ray vision, my words slip out like pearls off a snapped string.

"Needanyhelpherenookaybye?"

I cross the hallway to the kitchen, fighting the urge to look back as she and Blake start to talk over clanging cutlery...

**Author's Note: This ain't over yet! Believe me when I say the truth will out at last! Pinky swear, you guys, for real...**

**Review? Tell me how lame I am, how past caring you are? Something. Anything! Thankee sai :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: That did NOT take six months (apologies in advance for lengthiness)! We are making progress, people…**

**Chapter 18: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner **

**Blake**

The surreality of the situation sinks in around the same time Edie teaches me how to turn a napkin into a swan. If some psychic had said that I would end up here, receiving a refresher course from her on fine dining and _not_ hating it, I would have asked for my money back…

"_Voilà!_" she proclaims, dusting her hands off like this was manual labour and resting them on her hips. "_C'est magnifique, non?_"

"A masterpiece," I concur, setting down the last of what could be a hundred pieces of silverware. Here's hoping Chase has schooled Andie in the art of place setting. This is a lot less formal than my event, but I can still see her sitting with her hands in her lap, staring at the table like it's the edge of a cliff…

"_Excusez-moi_," Edie utters abruptly, waving at my face. "Where did you go?"

"What?"

"Your mind appears to have wandered. Where did it go?"

"Nowhere you'd care about. Why, what were you saying?"

"We're done," she exhales, pulling up a wrought-iron chair, adjusting its cushion and sitting down. "Shall we talk about your pet behind her back now?"

I pause for a second before slowly lowering myself into the seat next to hers. "What is there to talk about?"

"Why she doesn't like me."

"She never said she doesn't like you."

"Not in so many words. But she wears her heart the way Hells Angels wear tattoos." Not untrue… "I think that she's intimidated by me."

_"Highly unlikely_," I lie.

She rolls her eyes up to the ceiling, then back down to me. "Not by my _looks_ obviously. She's a beautiful girl, as well. But I don't need to tell you that…"

It's starting to look like whatever point she has will not be made without my encouragement… "Years of exposure tend to build immunity against beautiful girls."

"Well, it's a good thing I got to you when I did then," she says, smiling with such skilful seduction that it seems wasteful, ungrateful even, to not respond. But even if I wanted to want her right now, I wouldn't…

"What do you want, Edie?"

"…_I thought you'd never ask_…"

_**Andie **_

"You okay, West?" Chase says, nudging me out of my dishwasher-induced hypnosis. Chuck is bouncing around the rest of the room, wiping countertops and singing something about Friday night charades…

"Yeah," I lie. "Why?"

He shrugs, leaning back against the sink. "You looked a little antsy when you walked in. Thought maybe Edie said something to upset you…"

"No, we're cool," I lie…again.

"Hey, where's your necklace?"

I put a hand over my chest like somebody just snatched it off me. "Oh, right! Yeah, I left that in my bag. Didn't want to accidentally _marinade_ it or something. But I'll put it back when we're done."

"_Cool_," he says, grinning in a way that makes me feel like a jerk. Maybe because I am one. And a liar who lies. A lot. The truth is I felt better after I took it off, lighter. Not literally (it weighs about as much as a thumbtack) but…my heart feels heavy when I wear it…

"_She's here_."

Blake announces it with as much enthusiasm as a local weatherman, but from the way Chuck reacts you'd think a bomb just dropped. He drives us out of the kitchen, into the hallway, and stands us under the _**Добро пожаловать Главная**_ (Welcome Home) banner, before ticking everything off his invisible checklist…

When he opens the door and Cybil bursts in, I figure this must be what loves look like. Two old people still excited to see each other after forty years together. _And speaking of old people_…Edie is making googly-eyes at Blake. He notices and holds her stare for just a second too long before turning away…

My warm fuzzies die out so fast it feels like they were doused with ice water. I _want_ to stop looking, but some gravitational pull is working on my eyes, making them stick…

In the distance I can hear Cybil cooing over Chuck's concussion. "_How's your head, Querido?_" Only the sudden slap that comes after is enough to turn my head. "Still hollow, I see!"

"Wha-?"

"Charles, unless you want your new diet to consist of hospital food I suggest that you _follow mine_. Honestly, you'd rather risk turning into a vegetable than eating one! I was so worried I couldn't have stayed if I wanted to…"

Chuck catches on quick, letting his face melt into a sorry smile. "_Cara mia_," he coaxes, kissing her hand. "_Querida_…"

Instead of aw'ing and ew'ing over them, I start thinking crazy bitch thoughts about Blake and Edie: _What did they talk about?_ _Why did I leave them alone? How am I gonna split them up? _

Like they're already together. Like I've lost him. Like he was ever mine in the first place…

**Blake **

They say (whoever the all-knowing, all-powerful "they" may be) that you don't know what you've got until it's gone. But I didn't know what I had until it came back to me. I didn't know I missed it until it stood here, grabbing my face and accusing of me of starving myself…

"_Mum_," I mumble. "You've been here all of ten seconds. Could the nagging wait long enough for me to take your coat?"

"_You have 60 seconds_," she mutters reluctantly, slipping off the faux fur and handing it to me. Chuck and Chase stumble up the stairs with her bags, while she shepherds Edie and Andie into the living room.

I take it upon myself to check dinner, which turns out to be a mistake as I come back to find them flipping through an old photo album.

"What're you doing?"

"I _was_ returning these pictures of you and Chase to their rightful place," Cybil smiles, holding up _Mummy's Greatest Hits_. "But then…_look at little Blakey in his bath!_"

"_Give me that_," I grumble, but she just pulls away, grinning and kicking my shin lightly.

"_Oooh, I dig the artistically placed rubber duck_._"_

"Oh, Andie, _don't!_" Edie laughs in a way that makes me think of an empty tin can rolling down the street. "You're making him blush…"

With timing so impeccable it could have been scripted, Chuck and Chase enter, suggesting we move to the dinner table. I'm the first to go...

"So how was Russia?"

"Cold and criminal!" Cybil chirps diplomatically. "I didn't venture very far beyond Vaganova, which was _amazing_ by the way; you would not _believe_ the standards that they hold these children to, it makes ours look backup dancers on Barney and Friends…"

The next two hours turn into a lecture on How To Make MSA Better (subheading: How To Make Blake Better) as Chuck and Cybil compare notes on teaching techniques ("Son, did you ever get round to reading that book I gave you?"). Edie surprises me by staying silent, while Chase and Andie seem to conclude that this is grown up talk and retreat into each other…

By the time dessert comes round I've lost my appetite. I volunteer to serve it anyway, just to get away. But the kitchen door has barely swung shut behind me before Edie pushes through.

"_Now where were we?_"

It takes my mind a minute to catch up, but it gets there eventually. "You were telling me why you're here."

"_Right_…well, let's get this out of the way first: I'm not here to win you back."

"You're not."

"No…_yes_…I mean I _did_ come here to get _you_…" I shake my head, at a loss. "Blake. I'm building a school."

"...for who?"

"_Us!_" she tries to whisper, smiling wide. "We haven't been paid dancers in years. It's time we create our own career opportunities. And I want to share this with you! I can't think of anyone else…well, I _can_, but you're the only one I actually _want_. Blake, please don't look at me like that, I-"

"Wait…" I mutter, my mind stumbling after this revelation. "How were you planning on funding this?"

"Donors, of course. While you were pouting _I_ spent the past few months courting potential patrons. All of them would be willing to at least consider our business plan. But we need to work on it together. Our names carry a lot of weight."

"Well, where would this school be?"

"South Africa."

And the hits just keep on coming… "_South Africa?_ That's a little…_far_."

"_Exactly_. Let's face it, Europe and the States have a monopoly on great dance schools. Africa is an untapped resource. And SA is the richest country on the continent…"

A fit of laughter filters through from the dining room, stalling me for a second…"Do my parents know about this?"

She grimaces. "Blake, you and I both know that they have trouble letting go. Why do you think they wanted you here so desperately? They knew that as long as you were at MSA, you would be tethered to them…" She pauses for a response, realises I have none and continues: "So…I had to tell them that I wanted to be with you again."

"But you don't."

"It's not my first priority right now."

"Have I ever been your first priority?"

"Blake-"

"The answer is no," I snap, angry at myself for taking this long to say so. "I'm not leaving MSA for you."

If she's upset she doesn't show it. She doesn't show anything. But what she says is enough to floor me: "You mean you're not leaving Andie."

"_What?_"

"Oh, please, Blake!" she exclaims, lowering her voice a second later as she glances back. "What else could be keeping you in that crumbling shell? I know you. I know, _from experience_, how you get when you're falling in-"

"_Don't. _You don't know _anything_ about-"

"Believe it or not, you're only human. Emphasis on the man. And she's young and pretty and spends far too much time with you-"

"Edie-"

"And she makes you feel something other than the daily drudgery you go through over there-"

"_Edie_-"

"But you know better than to let your feelings cloud your judgment and kill a life-changing-"

"_Edie, STOP!_" The silence that follows seems to smother the whole house and I realize she isn't the only one that's stopped talking and started listening. I have to remind myself to breathe for a minute before I can speak: "I've heard enough." She obviously hasn't said enough, but she stays tight-lipped. "Are you going to help me with this or not?"

After a mute moment she moves, reaching over to take the plates from me. If she sees my hands shaking she doesn't say so, turning away instead and striding out of the room…

_**Andie**_

I should be happy right now. Whatever they were just talking about- nay, _fighting_ about…was bad enough that they don't even pretend to be okay when they walk back in. I _would_ be happy right now…

But Blake looks like a ghost, cold and absent. I stare at him, willing him to look up...if he feels my eyes on him he pretends not to…

Everything is weird after that. I feel bad for wanting to leave, but when Chase asks if I'm ready to go my heart soaks up the relief like a sponge.

Never thought I'd miss dinner with Sarah...

**A/N: *crappy Etta James impression* **_**At laaaaaaast…updates have come alo-ong…my lazy days are over…and Blandie's li-ike a song!**_

_**Phew!**_** I is still alive and kicking people, as I **_**hope**_** this chapter shows. Just survived a terrible exam and I am now ready to get back into the fun stuff for realsies! **

**In three weeks I'm going back home, where net access is going to be limited. So my goal is to update every 2-3 days, starting from Ch19 :) Bit ambitious but I think we can wrap up Blake and Andie's story before the summer holidays. That makes me a little sad coz I've been working on this for…almost two years? **_**Cheese and rice…**_

**Anyway, now more than ever I need your feedback! Don't be shyyyy…what did ya think? **


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: "Falling slowly/eyes that know me/and I can't go back/Moods that take me and erase me/and I'm painted black/You have suffered enough/and warred with yourself/it's time that you won…" **

**Chapter 19: Falling Slowly **

**Blake **

I wake up to the sound of someone breaking into my house. The culprit in question must be terrible at their job. Most successful robberies are carried out at night, as opposed to…what time is it? Noon. On a Sunday…

I shuffle downstairs, a golf club I never would have used otherwise held high above my head…

"_Who's there?_"

"…_your friendly neighbourhood gay!_"

At that my hand drops, the club slipping out and sliding down the last two steps. "_Fischer?_"

I walk into the kitchen to find him trying to crawl through a window. He's stuck; half of him hanging outside and the other half splayed over the counter.

"_What the hell are you doing?_"

He glares through horn-rimmed glasses for a second, before grunting: "You didn't answer my calls, or my reply to my texts, _or_ that one lengthy and…slightly irritable e-mail. So I thought I'd drop by and make sure you weren't dead. Or worse…_ignoring me_."

I pry the window off him, only realizing that I left it slightly open when he asks me why I did.

"You lock up _everything _when you get home."

"I must have been distracted…"

"Yeah, you must be. Have you even noticed that I just set foot in your house, _sans_ slippers?"

No, I didn't notice. And now that I have I don't care… "I'd rather be mad about the safety hazard of kitchen knives and coffee mug you just knocked onto my floor," I say, disappearing into the storage closet. "What was it you wanted?"

"_Lunch_. The one you've been 'scheduling' for thirty-two days."

"I have a lot going on right now…"

"So do I! And you'd know about it if actually asked how I am."

I emerge from the stuffy space with a broom and the sudden realization that he's right. I haven't asked. I haven't even acknowledged the fact that my best friend is breaking and entering to get my attention…

"Fish, are you okay?"

"I'm hungry. And a little sad. But mostly hungry."

"I'm sorry." He shakes his carrot-coloured head with half-assed stoicism. "May I bribe you with a vegetarian mezze plate?"

"_Heh._ Who said there's no such thing as a free lunch?"

As he helps me clean up, I can't help but feel relieved. I need this, too. I need to step out of myself, take a break from my own head. And the teenage girl dancing in and out of it…

_**Andie **_

"I'm tellin' you, those are my kicks!"

"Girl, you trippin', I got 'em like six months ago!"

"Yeah, when I _lent them to you_ the night before that 410 gig at the Dragon!"

"So what, you sayin' I'm a liar or a thief?"

"I'm sayin' you have selective memory loss and no understanding of the word '_borrowed_'-"

"_Guys!_" I groan, pulling a pillow up around my ears. "You have like a hundred pairs of sneakers between you. Who the hell cares about some raggedy-ass high-tops?"

The silence that follows is way too overpowering to be a result of my soundproofing. I sit a little up to see them staring at me, eyebrows raised.

"Well, who pissed in your cereal?" Felicia scoffs.

"Yeah, your mood's swingin' like a monkey…_on monkey bars_," Missy adds.

I grimace, falling back again. "Sorry, sorry…that was uncalled for. I just…I feel really weird right now…_something's not right_."

"Is it Chase?"

"…yeah, I guess."

"What's the problem?"

"I dunno…ever since he gave me this..." I slip the necklace off my dresser and let it hang between two fingers, "I don't feel what I thought I would feel. Kind of the opposite actually. Especially with everything Blake said-"

"What did Blake say?"

"It don't matter what _Blake_ says, he ain't a couples counsellor."

"No, I know, he just thinks-"

"Who _cares_ what he thinks?"

"_I do._ He's smart. Maybe not as smart as he thinks…but he gets this. He gets _me_. And-"

"Ay. Dios. MIO!" Missy gasps, sitting up suddenly. "Andrea…_te gusta Director Collins?_"

For a minute my first instinct is to deny, deny, deny…but I _do_ like him. I _like_ like him. I want him to kiss me (outside of my dirty little mind) and touch me (outside of class) and like me back (coz unrequited lust is a bitch). I was never embarrassed about all that. Until now…

"_No way!_" I croak finally, trying to slip on a mask of disbelief. It cracks under the pressure and Felicia must see it too because she points at me, laughing.

"She does!"

"_You do!_ You got a crush on the Director! You little whore; you're as red as a chili pepper."

"_I have a boyfriend_."

"_So do I_," Felicia grins. "But that don't stop me window-shoppin', you know wha'm sayin'?"

I roll my eyes as Missy cackles and high-fives her. "_When he was thirteen I was in the foetal position_."

"But he's _not_ thirteen anymore. And you ain't no foetus."

"Well, what does it matter? He's still older…and my teacher…and my boyfriend's brother…"

"But…?"

"…but she'd _still_ hit it!"

I groan and bury my head again, as they keel over laughing and chanting like cracked out cheerleaders...

"_Blake and Andie sittin' in a tree, dancing horizontally…_"

**Blake **

"And I said, '_Anthony_, you either tell her about us, or there won't _be_ an us.' And he was all, '_I can't believe you're giving me an ultimatum!'_ And I was like…gee, I can't wait to tell this story to my good buddy, Blake, seeing as he's such a good listener and all."

"...hm. You're absolutely right…wait, what?"

"_A-ha!_" Fish exclaims, attracting the attention of every diner within ten feet. "You _weren't_ listening, you terrible listener you."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Have a lot going on, yes, obviously. Now _stop_ saying sorry and start telling me why you look so heartsick. Is it Edie? I know she gate-crashed Cybil's homecoming…"

Edie is the least of my problems. Andie is the most of them. And Fish is one of the only friends I've managed to make without using dance as a pick-up line. He's trusted me with bigger secrets than this. But telling him would just legitimize it, make it real. And it can't be…

"Edie didn't come here to get me back," I start slowly. "Not exactly. She wants to build a school with me. In South Africa."

"Um…_wow_. Okay."

"Don't worry, I'm not going."

"What's stopping you?"

"Pardon me?"

"Traveling to a far-flung land, giving little kids a chance to fall in love with dance, under _your_ expert tutelage? It sounds like an adventure! Even if it fails, the change of scenery could do you good."

"This isn't a _vacation_, Fish. This would change my life. I could _waste_ my whole life trying to make it work. And even if I did believe in it, I don't trust _her_."

"So this is a pride thing? You'd rather spite her than save yourself from a dead end job."

"_Dead end_-?"

"_Blake_," he raises a hand to my outraged face. "As legendary as MSA may be, and as wonderful as your parents' legacy is…it's still kind of a dead end job. Do you really want to be there five years from now? _Ten? _Seriously, man, where else are you going from here? What's stopping you?"

He asks like the answer should be easy to dismiss. And it should be. I can feel it leaning off the tip of my tongue, ready to jump…

What is stopping me. A girl. A 17-year-old girl with scuffed sneakers that squeak on polished floors as she runs in late, tying her hair haphazardly and smiling in a way that makes me forget what I was so mad about…

Edie was right. I won't leave. I can't stay either. Not for ten years. Not even five. But I'll be here for as long as Andie needs me. For as long as I need her. God, how did I end up _needing_ her? Wanting her. It feels like a cut that only hurts when you notice it, glaring red on the back of your hand…

"_Jeez, Blake_, if you have to think that hard you obviously don't have enough reasons to stay."

I have one. Only one. And somehow she's enough… "What were you saying about Anthony?"

"Nuh-uh, we're still talking about y-"

"I think he might be right. Ultimatum is just a euphemism for blackmail."

"_What?_ It is not! I am trying to _empower_ him, free him from the medieval clutches of his psychotic mother! Honestly, Blake, you're supposed to be on _my_ side…"

_**Andie **_

For a minute there, even with Missy and Felicia roasting me, I felt relieved. I thought talking about it, telling someone about it might give me some kind of release. Now that the truth was out there it would stop being a secret and lose its power over me. But I still want him. More than I did before. It's like an itch that I can't reach on my own and it's making me crazy…

Blake can't give me what I want. He can't be my boyfriend. He can't just be my friend. And I can't ride out the next year and a half waiting for the day when I can look at him without my heart skipping steps and my legs shaking like the ground shifted under them…

So I need to…get him out of my system? Detox. Either I quit cold turkey and don't go to his classes, don't turn up for tutorials, don't visit Casa Collins and risk getting in trouble…or I tell him how I feel, get shot down and be forced to face him every day for the rest of my MSA life…

_Andie's Choice_. And it fucking sucks.

**A/N: I love So You think You Can Dance! It's like American Idol except I actually care about the contestants. It also pushed me back to this because I love dancers and the relationships they build… **

**Anyway, that was a pretty dialogue-heavy, action-light chapter, but things is about to get heavy in the next one. So stick around! Don't be givin' me the silent treatment…**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: I know, I know, I am sorry and I **_**know!**_** Travel troubles and personal problems…but you don't need to hear that! So check it (again)… **

**Chapter 20: The Long Goodbye **

**Blake ` **

I used to pride myself on never skipping school, as a teacher or a student. With hindsight this looks a lot less like an achievement, considering the fact that playing hooky is impossible when hundreds of people are holding you accountable, expecting you to show up and do your job.

But I _can't_ do it. Not today. Preferably not tomorrow. Probably Wednesday. Or…I could walk away. Quit preemptively and never have to face up to this. Whatever this is…

'…_drowning in your love, bring me flowers, and talk for hours, ooh, I_-'

"_Shut up_," I mutter, making a mental note to change my ringtone as I answer the phone…

"Hello?"

"You're going to be late for school."

"How do you know I'm not at school?"

"It is dangerously close to nine o'clock and your car is still here."

"And how do you know- _where are you?_"

"Outside your bedroom window."

"…are you _stalking_ me now?"

"Quite the opposite- I'm leaving."

Said the spider to the fly. This has to be a trap. If I get near her she'll sink her claws into me, wrap me up and drag me away. She'll ask me again. And I'm not sure I can say no anymore…

_**Andie **_

It's early. Too early. So early I'm still sweeping sand out of my eyes as I shuffle up the MSA stairs. I need coffee. And Red Bull. In a syringe so I can pump it directly into my veins. And while I'm at it, booze. Drunk people are always better at saying how they feel…

"'Sup, _Mrs. Cohen_."

"Morning, Miss West."

"Word on the street is you're getting hitched."

She looks up from her desk, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Word on the name tag, too."

"_Congrats_," I say, offering a congratulatory high-five. "Is Blake in?"

"Surprisingly, no. He's usually here before the janitor."

"Should we be worried or something?" I ask, worst case scenarios flitting through my head like a film reel.

"Well, he's never _not_ on time. I don't know what the protocol is, but I assume he would call to explain. Anyway, I'm sure there's a member of staff on hand that could help."

"…not with this."

"Can it wait?"

No. If I wait too long I'll start to think, then I'll realize how stupid this is and lose the nerve that's already slipping from my grip. But he's not here so…

"I guess it'll have to. Later, Abby…"

**Blake **

"You never asked me why I did what I did."

"The fact that you did what you did was all I needed to know."

"It wasn't. You never asked me why. Because you didn't want to hear the answer."

"I still don't. It's ancient history."

"_Those who won't learn from history are doomed to repeat it_."

She sends me a sage look over her coffee cup, as if that was anything more than fortune cookie wisdom. I heave a sigh, leaning languidly against the kitchen counter. "_Enlighten me_."

"Well, first of all…you were as much to blame for the demise of our relationship as I."

I stand upright suddenly, my spine steeling. "_How so?_"

"You were never there."

"I was _always_ there for you."

"Physically present, yes, emotionally available, no. You were…you _are_ the most repressed man I have ever met. Sometimes I wasn't sure if you _liked_ me, never mind loved me."

"I didn't tell you enough?"

"You didn't _show_ me. You never…you were too proud. I needed to see you fall."

"So you cheated. You cheated just to hurt me. And then you told me about it to make sure I_ cared?_"

She recoils from the venom in my voice, protesting; "When you say it like that it sounds awful!"

It was. It knocked my life off course. It erased everything I thought I knew about myself. It was the best thing that could've happened to me…

"Why are we rehashing this?"

"Because we could still be together if we _learn_ from our mistakes."

"But I _don't_ want to be with you."

"Well, you certainly can't be with _her_."

Yeah, I saw that coming. And I was ready for it. But this particular truth hurts more than I thought it would… "I know."

"Then come with m-"

"_Stop_," I snap, more frustrated with myself than her. "Stop trying to sell me on this. I'm not buying it." She frowns so fiercely her eyebrows nearly knit and inhales for what looks like an anti-Andie rant. I put a hand over her mouth and lean in, needing her to hear me out now… "Edie, I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know where I'll end up. But I _do _know that the only thing worse than staying would be leaving her."

My hand drops and she gapes at me, finally speechless. "Now if you'll excuse me. I don't want to be late…"

_**Andie **_

"We should brainstorm for the showcase until he gets here."

"Sorry, man, but unless Blake dropped dead and made you Director it should be majority rule. I vote free period. _Who's comin' with me?_"

Nobody's coming with him. Except for Natalia, whose vote doesn't count, seeing as she's unofficial President of the Chase Collins Fan Club. I feel bad about that. _I _should be the one backing him up. He must think the same because he turns to me…

"I uh…I think Jimmie's…_right?_"

He looks a little wounded after that, but I don't have to face him for much longer because Blake walks in.

"Morning, everyone," he says, like nothing out of the ordinary happened. Like he didn't just break his own rule.

"_You're late_," I point out.

"_I'm aware_," he mutters, concentrating on the contents of his duffel bag.

Seeing as his tardiness stalled my confession, I don't plan on letting it go. "Not being on time won't fly in the real world."

"Oh. _Snap!_" Chase says, and I have to stop myself glaring right along with Blake. I wasn't trying to make him look bad.

But he must feel bad because he apologizes to the class and then ignores me for rest of the lesson. Shit. Now he's mad. He _can't_ be mad. Not today…

When the bell goes I hang back, hovering nearby as he packs passive aggressively. "Hey…sorry about putting you on blast earlier-"

"There will be no afterschool sessions today. Or any other day. I've done all that I can for you. And you've done all that you can for me."

Okay. Didn't see that coming. "Why?"

"I just told you."

"Tell me the _truth_." He checks his watch with this impatient look that makes me want to throttle him. "Is this because I called you out?"

"You think I'm that petty?"

"_Don't_ answer my question with a question!" I gripe, trying and failing to keep cool. He still won't look at me. "Blake…I'll never see you."

"Of course you will. In class, with everyone else."

"I don't wanna see _everyone else_," I say, but he's already walking away. "Blake!" My hand goes out to grab his and I barely graze his fingertips before he pulls back like I burned him.

"_Director Collins_."

Yeah. We officially have a problem… "Yo, West!" Ugh. _Please go away, please go away_… "I'm wai-ting."

"Not _now_, Chase."

"…_not now?_" he repeats, so I get how condescending that sounded. I want to apologize but…no. I _don't_ want to apologize. I want him to leave. He's coming back anyway, approaching like there are landmines under the floor. "We have class now. I'm sure old _DC_ here wouldn't want us to be late." He stops a few feet shy of me, his eyes drifting down. "You're not wearing your necklace."

"_What?_ Oh. Yeah, I-"

"She doesn't wear it because she doesn't _want_ it."

My jaw drops, mid-white lie, but no words come out of the gaping maw that is my mouth right now.

"And what makes you think-?"

"I don't _think_, I know."

"Yeah, because she'd rather tell _you_ than me." The disbelief in his voice is no match for the conviction in Blake's. Chase turns to me, like he just remembered I'm in the room. "Andie?"

Here we go. "I didn't want to hurt your-"

"_Don't_," he snaps, anger seeping into his features as he steps back. "Spare me _that_, at least."

"Chase…Chase, _wait!_" He doesn't wait. Which means I should go after him. But I don't. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"You."

"_Come again?_"

He sighs, pushes a hand through his hair feverishly, and rubs the back of his neck. Either he has lice or he's actually being…awkward. "I did it for you." He looks me in the eyes this time and something in the room shifts. The air or the floor or…I don't know. But all of a sudden I feel like I ran a mile; breathless and shaky and warm. Really warm. Hot, actually…

"_Okay_," I croak, even though it's not. I watch him leave, wanting him to stay, so I can look a little closer, a little longer, and figure out if maybe, possibly, in a universe not unlike this one…Blake likes me back?

**A/N: How funny is it (more funny ironic than funny haha) that Blake and Andie are only as close as they are because of Chase? Without him they would have no reason to get to know each other. Yay, Chase! **

**Also, happy birthday to me! I'm 21! And I still love y'all for sticking around, for reading and reviewing, or alerting and favoriting. Truly, I appreciate every single one of you, even when I forget to say so…**

**P.S: R.I.P Amy Winehouse, you beautiful, crazy girl…**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: IT CONTINUES! **

**Chapter 21: Listen and Interpret**

**Blake **

The teachers' lounge is an alien planet, inhabited by older, wiser, chunkier beings that subsist on packed lunches, and speak in equations and quotations. It exists in its own dimension; an enclave apart from the rest of the school…

"So what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

I look up from the table to see Milo sitting down. "Just needed to get out without…actually leaving."

"Maybe you _should_ leave. You look like shit. That being said, your worst day is still better than my best."

"_Au contraire_," I mumble, cradling the cold coffee cup in my hands. "You've shed some weight. Shaving the beard will probably take off another thirty pounds, not to mention years. Were I that way inclined _I_ might fall for you."

"I'm flattered," he says, "but my heart is on loan right now." I trail his gaze to Madame Coquin, who flutters her fingers at us as she walks out. "_She waved_," Milo gasps. "That's good, right?" I don't know what that is, but I envy it. I envy any age-appropriate attractions… "Hey, you really do look heartsick, kiddo. You okay?"

Am I okay? Let's see…I hate my job but turned down a chance to change it, I love my family but can't relate to them, and I sabotaged two high school sweethearts because the sight of them together drives me crazy…other than that I'm fine.

"Blake…?"

"We all want things we can't have, right?"

"Of course. It's called temptation."

"How do you make it stop?"

"Well…" As he gets ready to philosophize it occurs to me that he won't have the right answer. He can't. I asked the wrong question… "The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden itself."

"…Oscar Wilde?"

He nods. "A smart- albeit controversial- man. Were he alive today he would probably advise you to go for it. Before she's gone."

My head snaps up at that…and drops soon after. He thinks this is about Edie. "She's already gone."

"Oh? _Oh_…I'm sorry, Blake."

I push the coffee mug away and stand. "Don't worry. I'm not…"

_**Andie**_

"It's not about the necklace. It's about you going behind his back, to his brother. And you _know_ how competitive they are. He just feels kind of betrayed…"

"Well, why he couldn't say this to me?"

"He's a little raw right now. He doesn't even want to sit with you at lunch. So do you mind hanging with Moose for a while? He's totally on your side."

"And whose side are you on, Soph?"

She grimaces. "Andie, I like to think that we're friends now, but I've known Chase since I was thirteen…"

"Yeah, okay, whatever," I mutter, knowing I come across bitchy and not caring. I'm over this junior high divorce court bullshit. I don't want to fight for custody of our friends. "Please just tell him I'm sorry."

Sophie nods and shrugs her backpack onto her shoulder. I get this queasy, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach as she walks off, probably to console my boyfriend…

Assuming he still is my boyfriend. I don't see us ending over a necklace. But crushing on his brother…now that could be a deal breaker.

To be honest, I kind of need this time away. I can't handle Chase's bruised ego _and_ wrestle with the possibility that Blake _like_ likes me. The thought of it scares me and excites me and confuses me because I'm not his type. I don't speak seven languages, I don't wear heels (if I can help it), I've never danced in a ballet…I'm not Edie. I'm the anti-Edie.

And maybe that's a good thing. Maybe that's what he needs. I don't know…

But I'm gonna find out.

**Blake **

"Where are you going?"

"To lunch."

Abby blinks, her face blank.

"Is that a problem?"

"_No_," she says slowly. "It's just…you always forget to eat. I practically have to force feed you come one o'clock. Now you look like you can't get away fast enough. Is everything all right?"

"Yes," I say and it sounds false, even to me. "Anything else?"

"I suppose not…oh, wait!" she exclaims, like she's surprised at her own memory. "Andie West stopped by earlier- earlier than _you_. It seemed important…"

I don't want to know. I don't want to talk to her or see her or think her name…

And that's too damn bad because she's coming down the hallway, with Moose at her side.

"'_Sup, DC!_" he calls, raising his hand. He lowers it with a wounded look as I pass by mutely. "_What's eating him…?_"

I don't know where I'm going until I get there. And even then, I spend ten minutes staring out the windshield with my hand on the wheel. When Chuck comes out and knocks I consider fleeing. But then he smiles, openly and expectantly, and all of a sudden I realize how badly I've treated him…

"Cybil! Look who's decided to grace us with his presence…"

She pops her head out of the study and grins. "Well, well, well…you look tormented, darling; positively Byronic. Can I get you something to eat?"

"Please," I say, as Chuck pulls me into the living room. He sits me down and I am vaguely aware of how nice it must be to feel helpless. To not make decisions. To be a kid…

"So what brings you here?"

I steeple my fingers and stare at the floor, feeling like a Catholic in confession… "Edie's building a school in South Africa. She wanted me to go with her. I said no. Now she's gone and I'm scared that I'm staying behind for something I can never have. Help."

I give him a minute to think, but when I look up he still seems stunned.

"Dad…?"

"That wasn't the plan."

"The plan?" I repeat, my muscles tensing at the thought of them planning my life. That warm fuzzy feeling fades fast.

"She didn't say anything about Africa…" He trails off at the look on my face and clears his throat. "But anyway…what're you staying behind for?"

"I don't know." Not untrue. "Could you just…tell me if I did the right thing?"

"You're asking me?"

"_Yes_," I exhale. "I'm that desperate. Tell me what to do, Dad."

He shrugs. "How can I when I'm completely biased? As your employer, I don't want to lose you. As your father, I don't want to lose you. At any rate, it's already done." None of this is helping and he must see that because he stops and thinks a little longer. "Okay," he starts again, shifting to the edge of his seat.

"Your mother and I were only a little older than you when we established MSA. It was the hardest thing either of us had ever done and we were pulled back from the brink of failure more times than you would believe. But we loved each other, even when we _hated_ each other, and we're still here. So the million dollar question is: do you love her?"

I wish I did. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier… "No. Not her. Not anymore."

He smiles briefly and I can feel the relief radiating from him. "Well, then. You did the right thing. And I for one am glad."

"Me, too!" Cybil exclaims, revealing herself. She perches on the arm of my chair and offers me a sandwich. "Watercress. Your favorite."

I take it and smile, as an uneasiness settles into my stomach…

_**Andie**_

Something about this studio gets me down. It looks fine now; immaculate actually. You'd never know it was vandalized. You'd never know it was used at all. But it feels so…dead. Because Blake's not here. And somehow, neither am I.

So I leave and take I don't know how many buses to get to his house. It didn't seem this far away before…

He's not home. I know before I get to the door. But my heart feels like it's executing some elaborate acrobatics routine as I sit on his porch and wait…and wait…and wait…and…doze the fuck off. I wake up to the sound of his car door slamming and stumble to my feet. He walks up slowly, looking like he's seen a ghost…

"_Hey_," I murmur, so quietly I almost don't hear myself. "Sorry for camping out on your steps. I didn't sleep much last-"

"What're you doing here?"

That does it. "What am I doing here? What're _you_ doing here? You're supposed to be teaching me!"

"Stop yelling. You'll frighten the neighbors."

"_Fuck the neighbors!_"

I want him to get mad. I want him to yell back. I want him to give me _something_, anything. Instead he mounts the stairs, brushing past me like I'm not there.

"Blake, come on," I plead, feeling my pride evaporate as I trail him. He's fiddling with his keys; his hands are shaking. "Please talk to me."

"Andie, I _can't_."

"_Why?_ And _don't_ give me that teacher-student crap. We passed that about three dinners ago."

He shakes his head and makes to open the door. I squeeze in between him and it and his breathing is so heavy it ruffles my hair. "_What_ is your problem?"

It happens so fast I'm not sure it happened at all. But then he kisses me again, pressing me back until my knees buckle against his and I feel like I could melt and drip out of my clothes. It's unreal, more dreamlike than my dream, but I don't wake up this time. I kiss him back, in broad daylight, while some old lady waters her hydrangea three houses down.

My hands switch to auto-pilot and drift down from his chest. Before they can reach their destination he pulls away, groaning like he just lost a long race…

"_You_ are my problem."

Everything after that is a blur. I remember his door closing, and the bus home…but I don't really know (or care) how I ended up in bed, smiling at the ceiling and replaying that kiss like it was my first…

**A/N: Hell to the yeah. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: **_**Ahem**_**. The following chapter is rated R. As in Ranch dressing. Or Raunchy. Either way I am putting that 'T' to good use ;) Title taken from a song by The Crystals… **

**Chapter 22: Then He Kissed Me**

**Blake**

'Crime of passion' always seemed like a cop out to me; an excuse for criminals to give in to their most uncivilized urges. But as of yesterday, I get it. I see how someone could, in a moment of madness, throw their whole life away…

I am officially one such lawbreaker. I could lose my job, my family, maybe even end up in jail. Or at least on one of those websites parents check out before they move into new neighborhoods…

And I don't care. Because she kissed me back. I never thought or hoped or dreamed she would kiss me back…not that this changes anything. Whatever it was on the other side of that kiss doesn't change anything. It just makes me more certain of what I have to do…

"Morning, Abby."

"Two days in a row, Blake? Is your watch broken? And your wall clock? And the timer on your oven?"

"Abby, I need you to arrange for an available teacher to take over my classes."

"Why? Where are you? Are you dying?"

"Not quite. I'm drafting a letter of resignation."

"…"

"Abby?"

"_Blake_-"

"Don't ask me anymore questions, please. I can't answer them. Just…do your job."

"…yes, sir."

_**Andie**_

I feel like I was cheating way before that kiss. Like I was already sharing stuff with him that was supposed to be for his brother. And I wish it _was_ just this physical, lustful thing I had to get out of my system. Then I could sweep it under the rug, squash it, pretend it never happened until I believed my own lie…

But it's a little late for that. So now I have this smorgasbord of feelings (happy and sad and scared and excited, with a dash of _WTF-just-happened?_) that I can't stomach. It's emotional indigestion…

Moose is trying to make me feel better, telling me that the first fight is just another milestone and once we move past it we'll be even stronger and could we maybe get there a little sooner than later because Sophie is starting to pull away from him…

"…_say what?_"

He shrugs weakly and the look on his face kind of makes me want to cry. How long has it been since I asked what's going on with him? Or Missy or Felicia or any of the MSA crew…

"Soph likes confident guys," he mumbles. "And most of the time I _am_ a confident guy. But next to him…" He throws a glance across the studio, at Chase. "I'm nothing."

"You are _not_ nothing!" I protest, angry at myself for letting him get like this. "Moose, you're-"

"An awesome dancer. So what? So is he. But _he_, unlike me, is a hot jock with a family legacy and a big car. Andie, my _Mum_ picks me up from school. Do you have any idea how lame that is?" Yeah. But it's the kind of lame I like. "Look, I don't want you to be mad at her or anything, I mean she wouldn't try anything…but I don't think she ever really got over Chase. I found this necklace on her dresser, like yours…not that I was snooping-"

"Don't explain yourself to me. Tell _her_ how you feel."

"_I can't_," he groans. "She's my first real girlfriend. Freaking out about her ex is _so_ uncool…"

The only uncool thing about this is one of my best friends feeling so insecure. Before I can set him straight the doors swing open and my mind goes blank. Whatever I was thinking gives way to what I'm feeling; heart palpitations and sweaty palms and this vague tingling where he kissed me, where his hands dug into my sides…

Turns out the physiological freak out is premature, as Madame Coquin strolls in, winding her curly dark hair into a bun.

"_Bonjour, tout le monde!_" she trills, positioning herself in front of the class and commanding our attention just by not being Blake. "_Je m'appelle Monique Coquin_…but you already know that."

Oh, I know all right. And I don't care. I only have three questions: Where is he? Why isn't he here? When is he coming back?

**Blake**

That SEND button is so very final. Click it and your message stops being yours. It turns into communication, a concrete statement shared with whoever's on the other end, impossible to erase. This is the kind of thinking that leaves me frozen in front of my computer, a hand hovering over the mouse. I am standing on the precipice of some life-changing decision, with no safety net, no one to catch me if I fall. And I'm scared shitless…

"_Blake!_" Three resounding beats on the door snap me out of my paralysis. A fresh fear, tinged with excitement, builds up in me at the sound of her throaty yelling. "Blake, I know you're in there! I can hear you angsting…"

I sit still, delaying the inevitable until she attacks again, threatening to 'bust' the door down. Or at least to bust her shoulder trying…

"That would be unwise," I say, opening up to find her glaring at me. "This is a nice neighborhood. You could be arrested just for wearing baggy jeans."

Andie scoffs and squeezes past me. I let her, because the boundaries I set up seem like a distant memory now…

"What did I do to deserve that?" I shrug, not getting it. "You kiss me and then you sic that rabid French poodle on me?"

Oh. "I apologize for both."

She huffs and puffs in a way that makes me want to laugh, despite myself. "So what's the story?" she asks, throwing her bag on the hardwood floor with a roughness that would aggravate me, were there not more pressing issues at hand. "You love me or you hate me?"

"Neither." She looks deflated and I want to explain that I really have no idea what the story is. I just know that the sight of her here, so angry she could spontaneously combust, sets off a dormant (once feared to be dead) need in me to get…closer.

"_Where were you?_" she demands, but her eyes are too soft around the edges to be convincing.

"Here," I say, stepping forward. "Hiding from you. Waiting for you. I don't know."

She rolls her eyes and they come to rest almost shyly on the shrinking space between us. "You'll drive yourself crazy thinking about all the things you _don't know_."

"Perhaps. I should try _not_ thinking. See how long I last."

"An hour at least," she suggests, her tone lower than usual as she glances up at me. "But hey, if you need a distraction…"

"I'm not easily distracted." Bullshit. Even as I speak my train of thought is being hijacked by the tautness of her tank top. "Why, at this very moment I am haunted by the fact that until you turn 18, you're jailbait."

She shrugs, stripping off her jacket with contrived casualness. "I won't tell if you won't."

Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I realize that this is the point of no return. And I have no intention of turning back… "My lips are sealed."

For all of two seconds before she reaches up to kiss me, slowly, carefully, like she's tasting something hot. All of a sudden handcuffs don't seem like such a bad idea…

_**Andie **_

My first time with a boy was a lot like my first time on a bike; clumsy, painful and kind of embarrassing. He called himself Pinky and lived next door with his grandmother. Despite these less than sexy circumstances, I didn't regret it. My Mum died a month before and I needed to feel something other than the gaping hole growing inside me, hollowing me out. Pinky was just…there. A brief (three minutes, tops) distraction…

But this is different. Blake takes his time, gives as good as he gets…and I don't need him. I want him. I didn't know how badly I wanted him until he opened that door…

"Not so fast," he mutters, pressing my hands down above my head.

"If we go any slower I'll be old enough to vote by the time this is over."

"Good things come to those who wait," he recites, planting kisses behind my ear, down my neck, along my collarbone.

"Less waiting, more coming…"

We probably should have gone upstairs. There's more legroom on a bed than on a couch. This is a really comfy couch, though, so clean and cream-colored I almost feel bad about doing dirty deeds on it. Almost…

_Almost there_. Blake responds in kind, finally putting me out of my misery as he angles into me, harder and faster, matching my rhythm like a good dancer should…

I used to read about this is in Missy's Cosmo magazines, staring at the text until my eyes blurred or she came out of the bathroom. I wondered if it could actually be _that_ good…but sweet baby Jesus, it's better. Like being struck by really awesome lighting. And for a few seconds or minutes or days I let go. I forget my boyfriend, forget my embarrassingly excessive moaning, forget that any nosy neighbor would be treated to a show if they passed by the living room window…forget myself.

Apparently some culture somewhere calls it The Little Death. I get that…

"You sounded like a cat, yowling and purring like that."

"_Shut up_."

"A cat being strangled."

"_Shut up!_"

"And _really_ enjoying it."

I thump his chest, but it's so rock-hard I almost hurt my own hand. "You sounded like a dog, growling and panting."

Surprisingly, he smiles, a non-smirky smile. "So I've been told."

I start to sit up, but then get self-conscious about my nudie-ness and lie against him instead. "How many times have you been _told?_"

"Not many after Edie. You?"

"Once. He was better than you."

"If he was better than me why did it only happen once?"

Damn it… "Your five o'clock shadow is creeping in," I say, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

He runs a hand over his chin carefully, testing the stubble. "Maybe I should grow a beard."

"Ew, no. I don't want hair in my mouth when we make out."

"When…"

"Yeah."

"We are moving very fast."

I can feel him thinking again, second-guessing. "Nah, you're just moving very slow, what with being old and all."

He doesn't respond, just stares up at the ceiling. I hold my breath, waiting for something to lift the heavy silence, then realize he can feel me not breathing and try to relax… "Edie offered me a job in Africa."

Edie? Job? Africa? _No_. Don't. Freak. Out. "What kind of job?"

"Co-director of her new school. That's what she's been after all along. My name, contacts, experience. With my brain and her brawn we'd make a formidable team."

"You're not actually thinking about it, are you?"

"I was. I am. Not about going," he adds. "But…about my place here."

"What about your place here?"

"I don't have one."

"Said the Director of a thriving performing arts school."

"_Thriving_," he repeats. "How generous."

"Okay, fine," I concede quickly, not liking where this is going. "Juilliard it ain't. But, you know, in time…"

"I don't have a lot of time. I'm 30. In five years I'll be almost 40."

"Yeah, you're at Death's door by then."

"You may mock, Seventeen magazine, but when you get to my age- _listen_- when you get to my age you have to make sure that you're happy with where you are. And I'm not."

"You're not happy with where you are?"

He turns to look me in the eyes and it makes me feel even more naked. "Right now I am. With you I am. But only with you. And I can't spend the rest of my life with you. Not when my happy makes others unhappy."

"You're making _me_ unhappy. What the hell kind of pillow talk is this?"

"I'm trying to be realistic."

"And _I'm_ trying to be romantic, which- _in case you hadn't noticed_- doesn't come naturally to me."

He sighs and goes quite again, circling my shoulder with his thumb. "The school wouldn't implode without me," he says after a while. "There will be other teachers, _better_ teachers."

"I don't _want_ better teachers. I want you."

It was kind of a compliment, but he looks hurt. Like, in serious pain. "Well, according to _Les Rolling Stones_-"

"_You can't always get what you want._"

He smiles, sadly this time, and all of a sudden I start to cry.

**A/N: My buddy Reuben said that she enjoyed "Fish" (thankee sai, dude!) and when I went back to remind myself of him, I realized that I called him "Lee," like thrice. My bad! I know a Lee and I must have Freudian slipped his name in there while writing. **

**Guys, please feel free to point out these errors when you see them, so that I don't get a chance to beat myself over the head for not spotting them earlier… **

**Random tidbits: the deleted scenes show Moose getting picked up by his Mum. I thought that was cute and deserved a mention :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: Oh, Review Reply function, WHY HAS THOU FORSAKEN ME? **_**Le sigh**_**…anywho! Readers have expressed concern that the Blandie ship sunk before it had a chance to sail. But it ain't over 'til the fat lady dances. **_**And I ain't dancin'…**_

**Chapter 23: ****West Side Story**

**Blake **

Being selfish, saving yourself, pursuing your own happiness, regardless of the thoughts and feelings of others, is liberating. But unless you're lucky enough to be a sociopath (or an asshole), this kind of living cannot last. Not when you're a grown up and a productive member of society and every action has a reaction…

"What is this about?"

"Well…it's a resignation letter…about my resignation."

"We read it, Director Collins, thank you. But right now we need to speak to our son. What's _wrong_, Blake? What can we do to make it right?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can do. I'm just…done." The silence on the other end of the line is so absolute I can almost hear their facial expressions. "But I want to thank you," I add, "for giving me this opportunity. For giving me a reason to get out of bed. Now I need to figure things out for myself. And I need you to be okay with it. Please be okay with it."

Their collective sighs are hardly supportive, so I hang up, before they can bring me down from my high…

"You're not doing this for me, are you?"

I swivel round in my chair like some kind of Bond villain, to see Andie leaning against the doorway, wrapped in a bed sheet. Funny how unsexy plain white sheets used to be…

"No. This is mine."

She smiles and shuffles into the study, bunching the sheet up around her hips as she straddles me. "So what do you want to do now?"

"Besides you?" I breathe, as she tugs at my jeans. "Absolutely nothing…"

_**Andie **_

Love is like a hole in the ground. If you walk around with your head in the clouds you just might trip and fall down it. This is to be avoided AT ALL COSTS. Because love holes are deep and dark and scary and pretty much impossible to get out of without stepping on whoever you fell in with…

"Andie, is that you?"

I freeze by the stairs, scared that Sarah will see me and sense what I did somehow. She comes out of the kitchen, drying a dinner plate, and staring at me like something's wrong._ Already? _My poker face needs work…

"Hey. Sorry I'm late. Director Collins had me working overtime…"

"Never mind. Your Aunt called. From Texas," she adds redundantly.

There is only one Aunt. In Texas. The last time I heard from her she was trying to take me back there. And the last time we talked she was trying to make me cry. I don't think she ever got over my inability to grieve with her. Or to live with her…

So when Sarah asks me to call back I'm less than excited. But more than relieved about not being in trouble. And kind of touched that she looks so worried…

"Hello?"

"Aunt Jo?"

"_Andrea! _Oh, my Buddha, it is so good to hear your voice! How are you, baby? How's that new school of yours?"

"It's…educational. How's the store?"

"Eh. Business isn't exactly booming, what with the recession and all. But somebody's always going to want a customized coffee mug or egg cup or whatever so…"

She drifts off in a way that makes me wonder if she forgot why she called. I try to jog her memory. "Is everything...else all right?"

Probably not. Something is always wrong when she calls… "Well, I was just wondering if…if you remembered what day it is this time next week?"

Next week? I dunno…Wednesday? Moose is having a pizza party…and the MSA crew is getting back together to rehearse…and it's my Mum's birthday. It would have been my Mum's birthday…

"_Andrea?_ Andrea, do you remem-?"

"_Yeah_," I utter, as something cold and dark seeps into my brain. Sarah's still in the kitchen, drying that same plate... "Yeah, how could I forget?"

"…of course. How could you? Anyway, the reason I called is…Grant's away…and it gets pretty lonely when he's not around…and I just _can't_ be alone that day. It would mean so much to me if you… I haven't seen you since the funeral…"

She's crying. But I can't really hear her. Sarah sees me holding out the phone. I didn't know how tight my grip was until she pried it from my fingers.

"Jolene? It's Sarah. No, she's still here. She just…"

…had to breathe. But I feel like I'm inhaling water and every breath is too shallow. I mount the stairs, wondering how, just a little while ago, I could have been happy…

**Blake  
**

The point of no return must be several miles back by now. I certainly can't see it from here. So the only way is forward. And it's already starting to look like an obstacle course. Staff, students, family, friends…a litany of people to let down…

"You're back?"

"Only because The Powers That Be need time to replace me."

"…are you serious?"

"No, I'm totally kidding," I remark dryly, then- at the look on her face- temper my tone. "I'm tired, Abby. You know that."

She shrugs, eyes roaming my face for a moment before she reaches into a desk drawer. "You're still cordially invited to my wedding," she grumbles, pulling out an invitation. "Assuming you can muster the energy to attend."

"Thank you," I say, tugging it from her grip. "I'd like to have a staff meeting before lunch. And have my class come to the studio during free period."

Abby shakes her head. "That better be a damn good replacement, Blake. Don't make me quit, too…"

Loyalty. I expected it from her. Not so much from the rest of them. I always saw my role as that of a benevolent dictator, instated due to my parentage and vaguely resented for it. But no one rejoices at my abdication. In fact, they all seem sort of…pissed off.

"You can't just abandon ship when the seas get stormy!" Milo protests poetically.

"_C'est vrai!_" Madame Coquin contributes.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Mr. Nelson croaks as fiddles with his hearing aid, and I wonder if he literally has no idea what everyone is yelling about…

"I am truly sorry, everyone. But what's done is done. Many of you have close personal ties to my parents, but if what I've told you isn't enough, you won't get much more from them. So I'm asking you to trust and respect my decision…"

"_Why should we?_" Jimmy demands, surprising me. Betraying me more like. The one time he decides to challenge my authority…"You're abandoning us when we need you most!"

As the others murmur their assent my eyes find Chase, just fast enough to make sure he's in the room. But if I can barely face the rest of them, I sure as hell can't face him.

"I am not _abandoning_ you. I will be here long enough to oversee your showcase. Speaking of which: your assignment for tonight is to brainstorm. I expect an idea from each of you by our next lesson. That'll be all for today."

As they leave reluctantly, I look to Andie for…I don't know what I'm looking for but it's not what I get. She's simply standing there, hugging herself and crying. This time it's not for me…

_**Andie **_

"…_Custom Cups_ barely pays off my aunt's mortgage, so Sarah has to try and scrape some money together for the ticket."

"No, she doesn't."

"What?"

"I'll pay for it."

"_What? _No. She wouldn't accept that. Neither would I."

"I want to help." He wants me to stop crying. _I_ want me to stop crying. "Can't she drive you there?"

"Not with work. And Charlie in school. And what about my school?" My voice cracks stupidly at that and he speaks up in a hurry:

"You have my permission to cut class."

The sobbing dies down and comes back as a chuckle, which turns into a hiccup. I look up and he clasps my face with his baseball mitt hands, wiping away as much as he can with his thumbs.

"I'll take you."

"Where?"

"To the moon- _duh_."

I roll my eyes. "Sarah definitely won't go for that. Besides it's like a whole day's drive from here to Houston. Unless your car is a DeLorean. Then I guess we'll get there in no time."

"Well, I can't promise time travel. But I have time. And Sarah would appreciate that I'm cheaper than a plane and safer than a bus. What say you, Miss West?"

I say "_road trip_" like a sorority girl on downers. Blake smiles and stoops to kiss my sobby slippery lips and I think…

I think I love him a little bit.

**A/N: "Sorority girl" makes me think of Sorority Row :P ****Briana E.** was bloody gorgeous in that. And speaking of horror…

**I have just thunk a scary thought: what if all dem peeps who put BMF on alert have given up on the fic and they just aren't reading anymore and that's why they're not reviewing?(!) Please…if you're still out there…**_**whistle!**_** And if you can't do that, review!**


	24. Chapter 24

**WARNING: Filler chapter ahead! Hope you enjoy anyway…**

**If not, there is an alternative! 'shallowness' has a lovely little oneshot out called Balance. I love it and I think you will, too :)**

**Chapter 24: Three To Tango **

**Blake **

It seemed like a good idea at the time. She was crying and I was standing there like a scarecrow, having tried and failed to locate a hankie. She was crying and I just wanted to make it better somehow. But now I have to drive to Texas, in a car that is not designed for rough roads, accompanied by a minor I had sex with, and Chase is outside my office, and…damn it. Chase is in my office.

"What?" I ask, almost hoping that Andie told him about us (and we are now undeniably an 'us'). Hoping he'll hit me. Hoping he'll hate me but- in the interests of brotherly love- let me be with her...

"I'm here against my will. All anybody wants to talk to me about is _you_. Even my teachers. _Especially_ my teachers. And don't get me started on Mum and Dad-"

"_Marcia, Marcia, Marcia_," I mutter.

"_What?_"

"Forget it. You just reminded me of Jan Brady."

"_What?_"

"Forget it," I insist. Making fun of him is somehow not as fun anymore. "Do you want me to call them off?"

"I want you to give me something to take back to them."

"Nothing I say will make anyone feel any better." And that is as honest as I can be right now. Chase seems to sense this and doesn't press any further. He doesn't leave either. He just stares at me warily, waiting for something… "Have you spoken to Andie at all?"

"_Go to hell_."

And there it is. "You should talk to her."

"You should stop giving relationship advice."

"Agreed," I concede, eager to end this conversation. "Will that be all?" He shrugs. "Then go home. I still have work to do."

Hoping to emphasize the point, I pick up a pen and try to look busy. But it takes a while after he leaves for me to actually write anything…

_**Andie **_

I almost forgot how much I hate public transport. I hate the gum under the seats, the windows that stick, the pervs that stare at my boobs. I hate that it was always just another thing I had to learn to deal with as an…maybe "orphan" is overdramatic. Or offensive to kids who know for a fact that both their parents are gone. I don't know where my father is. I don't care. He wasn't there when I was born and he wasn't there when she died and I'm 99.9% sure he isn't picking me up from school today…

"Need a ride?"

But hey, this will do.

"_Thank you_."

Before I can get up from the bench, Chase sits down, as far away as possible. People passing by might think we were strangers, just waiting for the same bus to take us to different places…

"Remember when I said I liked that you and Blake were getting close?"

"…yeah." We were in his car and I was in the front and Moose was in the back. We were happy.

"I changed my mind," he says and for a second I wonder if his brother cracked and confessed. "He's just getting in the way. And I think his leaving is the best thing for us."

That's fair enough. But anger still burns in my throat like bile. He is _not_ leaving. Maybe it would help us, but it would hurt me. I don't want to choose. I don't want to lose either of them…

"If I'm with you I'll still see him. At family functions or whatever."

"Yeah, well, he's family. He doesn't have to be your friend."

"He already is my friend." With benefits. Oh God, the benefits…

"_How?_ You're like polar opposites! You have _no_ common denominator, except for me. So why do you find it easier to be honest with him?"

This is probably the wrong time to mention Texas. _Or_ this is the right time to make him feel included. Either way, anything I say now will come out all twisted and pissed off. So I zip it.

Chase stares across the street for a while, holding me hostage with his hostile silence. Then- "I think we _all_ need some time apart."

"…what, like a break?"

"Not _like_ a break. A break."

"For how long?"

"_You tell me_," he mutters, getting up and going before I can think of anything to say…

**Blake **

How does that song go? _A chair is still a chair…even if there's nobody there…but a house is not a home…something, something_…whatever. The point is that I get it. My house has never felt less homey. And I dread going back. I dread the empty bed and the solitary sofa and the hours spent bouncing off walls like a bat in a cave…

As I contemplate camping out in the office, my phone rings and '**Andie**' turns up on screen for the first time. Funny how we exchanged bodily fluids before phone numbers (funny twisted, not funny haha)…

"Yes, Miss West?"

"I talked to Chase."

She sounds down. Below sea level. My stomach knots tightly. "About what?"

"Us. Whatever we are. I kind of…left out Texas."

"Why? We have enough secrets as it is without sneaking across state lines like fugitives."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't have to face him."

"I did. He stormed into my office earlier."

"…you saw him? Why didn't _you_ say anything?"

"I tried. The second I brought you up he shut me down."

"Well, you should have tried harder!" she exclaims and her sudden spike of anger almost makes me drop the phone. "I _hate_ to lying to him. He practically broke up with me because of it! What if he's onto us? But he can't be otherwise he would've freaked. Unless he's keeping himself busy while I'm with y-"

"Andie, would you be quiet for two goddamn seconds and _listen?_" My own voice is just a few decibels below yelling, but my volume control seems to broken. "Chase is just as important to me as he is to you- probably more. I didn't make you lie to him or cheat on him. _You_ came to _me_. And I'm sorry if you regret it now because I don't. I want to be with you. But I _can't_ be your boyfriend! I can't introduce you to my family or take you out with my friends or have what anyone would call a real relationship with you. _He_ can. So you need to decide what you really want: me or him."

That sounds like an ultimatum and I hate it. But I don't have a Plan B. I chose her. And she is the only thing I am sure of right now… "_Sorry_."

Her voice is heavy and the weight of the word feels like a stone tied to my heart. "_For what?_" I croak, suddenly panicked by the possibility of being hurt. Again.

"For bitching out on you. None of this is your fault. I just…I wish it was easier." So do I. And I would say as much, but I can barely breathe right now, never mind speak... "We should date," she adds abruptly.

"What?"

"_We should date,_" she repeats, clearly stumbling upon an a-ha moment. "We started this whole thing _back asswards_. We leapfrogged over some big steps. We need to _date_."

"Why? You already put out."

"_Hardy-har-har_," she mutters. "I'm serious, Blake."

"So am I. The whole point of dating is to get to know each other. And I already know you, in more than just the biblical sense. So why?"

"Because we don't have school schedules. We have to _make_ time for each other. Maybe we'll never be 'boyfriend and girlfriend', but we can at least _try_ to be together."

I heave a silent sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose as I concede defeat. "All right. If it means that much to you I will take you out on a date." And by that I mean; I will do anything to make you happy. I will give up everything to keep you. Just promise not to break me. Because I won't recover this time around…

That might be a little much for a teenager, though, so I settle on something less intense. "You should probably bring an overnight bag."

She laughs low in her throat at this. "What kind of girl do you think I am, Blake?"

Honest answer? The kind that could save my life. Or ruin it...

**_Andie_**

As soon as I get home Sarah wants to know how I am. I want to tell her. But I can't. I couldn't tell my own mother. They'd just go all parental control and pull me out of school, put Blake in jail. Then our only dates would be conjugal visits…

"_Better,_ now that Director Collins is taking me to Texas."

"...he what?"

I sit down across the table from her and Charlie, whose face is scrunched up over his Math problems. Ha. He thinks _he_ has problems…

"I didn't ask. He offered."

"He was probably just being nice," she dismisses. "You know he's a busy man."

"Not for much longer. Did you get that email the school sent out?"

"Yes, well…Andie, it just seems _odd_. I know he's your boyfriend's brother but…" Here her eyes light up, Eureka style. "Could Chase take you?"

I suck in a sigh and steel myself, but before I can say anything Charlie does.

"Is Chase da one who bought us pizza?" He looks up at me, a big smile broadening his little face. "Is he Andie's _boy_-_fren_?"

Sarah scowls and scolds him but I laugh. Big belly laughs that make my body ache and my eyes water. When I come to they're both staring at me like I lost my mind. And I probably did…

"Come on, Sarah, _please_," I choke, trying to refocus. "You know him. You trust him. And whatever you were saving for my ticket would go a long way for _this_ goober."

She looks down at the goober, working through his additions and subtractions, and sighs. "Well, when you put it like _that_..."

Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner.

**A/N: Speaking of other fics: a very astute author wrote a crossover highlighting the fact that Corny Collins from Hairspray has the same last name as the Collins family. This must have been intentional as Adam Shankman worked on both films, both set in Baltimore. I love it when two worlds collide… **

**Anyway, I'm playing with the idea of Chapter 30 being the end. Not sure if that will be enough time to resolve Blake and Andie's affair, but there will be an epilogue, too. I just need to figure out whether or not their ending will be a happy one ;)**

**RnR, if you please!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Okay, I owe you all yet _another_ apology for the silence. I'm in my final year at uni (fuck, I'd just finished _high school_ when I started this story) and the workload is too intense to allow for decent updates :'( But thank you readers, new and old, for your patience. I love you THIS MUCH! So much that I don't even need you to review :) Just read and hopefully enjoy...**

**"The valentines I never knew/the Friday night charades of youth/Were spent on one more beautiful/At seventeen I learned the truth..."  
**

**Chapter 25: At Seventeen **

**Blake **

"We could do like a flash mob!"

"…_what?_"

"It's this big group dance that _looks_ sudden and spontaneous but-"

"I _know_ what it is, Goose. Care to share how that would work for your showcase?"

"_Okay_," he breathes, more spurred on by my impatience than deterred. "Picture this: the lights go down, the music starts up, the audience looks to the stage…but we're not there. We're _in_ the crowd. And all of a sudden, Jimmie starts to bust a move, then Jodie, then Taylor, like a chain reaction! Right there on the floor. It would be_ epic_."

He sounds sure...so sure that I know this must be a bad idea somehow. "_No_. The logistics are too tricky. Without a stage you would be fish out of water. And if you miss your cues or misjudge your positions…" I could go on, but his spirits seem suitably dampened. "Any more bright ideas?" I ask, addressing the rest of the class. They avoid my gaze warily and it occurs to me that I already shot them all down. "Okay," I sigh. "Class dismissed."

"_Dissed and dismissed_," Andie scoffs as the room empties. "Why so serious, Blakey?"

"How do you mean?" I mutter, vaguely aware of her creeping up behind me.

"You've been all cranky pants today," she mumbles, wrapping her arms around my waist. I wriggle round in her grasp, glancing at the closed door as she squeezes determinedly. "Chase?"

I don't know if it's the strength of her hold or the mention of his name, but I exhale, deflating like a balloon stretched too tight... "He's in school. He's attending all his classes. Except this one. And I should be angry with him but I'm just mad at myself because I don't want him here. I can't teach him anymore."

Andie pouts, too playfully to be taking this seriously. "Well, then it's a good thing you quit, huh? Now you can date me and not teach him and everything will be easier!" She kisses me quickly and unfastens herself. "So where are you taking me?"

I tap the side of my nose, signing secrecy, and she smiles shrewdly.

"What's the dress code?"

"...a dress."

"_Haha_," she drawls, picking up her bag. "Fine. But remember: park around the corner when you pick me up. From _Missy's_ house, not mine. I'm supposed to be spending the night there..."

I almost laugh at that. Sneaking out and lying about whereabouts is something teenagers do. Something I was too scared to do at 17. All of a sudden I feel like I'm aging backwards, slipping away from my adult life...

"Oh, and Blake?"

"Mm-hm?"

"_Apologize to Moose_."

She is telling me, not asking me, and my internal teenager gives in, knowing that resistance is futile. Moose may be a student to me but he is a friend to her. And any friend of hers is at least an acquaintance of mine...

"_Yes, ma'am_."

Andie smiles sweetly, chancing another kiss before bounding towards the door. She seems...buoyant. Bouncy. As if dancing to a silent song. It takes me a minute to realize that this is what 'happy' looks like. What it feels like...

It sort of hurts. Like cardiac arrest. Like my heart isn't big enough to hold it...

_**Andie **_

When I get to my locker Moose is standing by it, hunched over so much he looks like a bean sprout bent in half. I ruffle the shaggy mop on his head and he glances up, smiling a little.

"Don't sweat it, okay? Your idea was great. He just forgot to take his chill pills today."

"That dude's been off his chill pills for _years_," he mutters, banging on the door so it comes unstuck. "But whatever. How _you_ doin'?"

I am doing good. Great. I have a hot date tonight. But that's the wrong answer to this question. "I'm better."

Moose nods, not really believing me. "You sure you don't want to talk...about anything?"

"You mean _Texas?_" I mutter, slamming the locker shut.

He winces, like he stepped on broken glass."Well, yeah...I mean...if you want..."

"I don't." I can't. "So let's not, okay?"

"Okay. But you can't say no to a hug. I need one as much as you do."

He throws his arms open and I snort humorlessly, snuggling up for a second before it starts to make me feel sad and I have to pull away. "What's going on with you and Miss Donovan?"

"Nothing. That's the problem."

"She really likes you, Moose."

"It's not enough. I don't want her to _like_ me. I want..." He shakes his head. "Whatever. I think we both need some comfort food."

_"Sure,"_ I say, pulling his arm over my shoulder as we head for the cafeteria. "Nothing comforts me like wood chips in a brown bread bun."

_"Girl, _you trippin'! Tofu dogs are both delicious and…"

We step out into the food court and stop in our tracks. The MSA crew table is fully booked, Sophie and her group taking up space next to Chase. They're all talking and laughing and not noticing us.

I chance a glance at Moose- he looks sick. "_Go_," I say, pulling away from him.

"..._no_," he replies simply. "She knows where my loyalties lie."

He stretches a smile across his face and loops an arm in with mine, leading me back the way we came…

**Blake **

For the first time in a long time I'm at the wedding of someone I actually care about. I sit on the bride's side, feeling something akin to pride. And sadness. Abby's not just changing her last name. She's changing her priorities, responsibilities, loyalties. She's committing to him- and he is to her- in the eyes of their family and friends and whatever power may be. As she walks down the aisle, swathed in white and moving with the slow steady grace of a swan, it occurs to me that I envy her. I envy this. Because I can't have it. Not with Andie. And not without her...

An hour later Milo and I stand on the synagogue steps, loitering while Adam and Abigail Cohen pose for pictures.

"This suit feels like a _straightjacket_," the poet mutters.

"Maybe if you bought your own instead of borrowing mine," I murmur, "Your tie is crooked by the way..."

"_The tie_," he grumbles, adjusting it. "A symbolic noose."

"You should be hanged for not knowing how to wear one at your age. My brother learned when he was..." Something stops me here; a sudden stab of sadness...Milo raises an expectant eyebrow and I shake my head. "Never mind. Madame Coquin seems to approve of your new look."

He chances a glance at her as she hovers near the bridal party. She catches his eye and smiles coquettishly, before turning to another teacher.

"Women _do _get particularly romantic during weddings," he remarks. "When love lingers in the air like freshly dispensed perfume."

I smile wryly. "You should strike while the iron is hot."

"And leave _you_ all alone?"

"I'll be fine. I have other plans."

"Social or professional?"

"...personal."

"_Ah_," he utters, foregoing his natural urge to pry for once. "In that case I better go ask her."

"Ask her what?" I say, as he skips down the stairs.

Milo stops and turns, grinning generously. "_Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?_"

I laugh, despite myself. "Let me know how that works out for you."

"_Mais oui_..."

**Andie**

I feel like a junkie, jonesing for a fashion fix. Which would make Missy my dealer. Tonight she's enabling me with her favorite "Freakum Dress", a blood-red swishy streak of satin. It fits like a glove, i.e. too close for comfort. But I kinda love it...

"You gonna win yo man back with those sexay salsa moves?"

I laugh halfheartedly as Missy makes my face over. She thinks Chase is picking me up tonight. And Sarah thinks I'm sleeping here tonight. And Moose thinks I'm taking a bus to Texas. And Aunt Jo thinks Blake is just a family friend. And balancing all this bullshit is starting to feel like a tightrope act...

"What were you fightin' about anyway?"

Oy. "Nothing. He just...it's this thing with Blake. You know how competitive guys get."

"Hells yeah. Especially when you put a girl between them."

"...am I ruining their relationship?"

She shrugs. "They'll be a'ight. _Bros before hos_ or whatever. What you should be worried about is _Blake _ruining your relationship." Too late... "But forget about him! Tonight is about you and-"

Mercifully, my phone rings and I jump up like my ass is on fire. Missy messes with my hair all the way downstairs and I have to push her back, promising to call later...

As per instruction, Blake is parked right the corner, perched on the hood of his car.

"_Hey_-" is the first and last thing he says before I attack-kiss him. I can feel him smiling, mumbling something inaudible as I press myself against him, try to hide myself in him... "_Andie_," he gasps, peeling me off. "You seem unusually happy to see me."

"_You seem happy to see me_," I murmur, reaching down. He grabs my hand, laughing low in his throat.

"_Easy_. The night is young."

"And so are we."

"And so are we..."

**A/N: TO BE CONTINUED! Soon and very soon...**

** Hey, remember when SU3 was in the works and I got all excited about Moose and Camille being the leads? Then it turned out the story really revolved around that pretty boy and Andie 2.0? That pissed me off :-/ And now SU4 is happening without them. Even John Chu is out. Bummer… **

**Anyway, did anyone catch Rob Hoffmann on Grey's Anatomy? He was great...  
**

**Oh, and I watched a few scenes from the movie again and it turns out Andie's aunt has a name (**_**dammit!**_**). It's 'Alice' :p But I like 'Jolene'! Reminds me of Dolly Parton… **


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: I iz graduating, y'all! Which means more updates. And hopefully more reviews ;) Thanks as always, to readers new and old…**

**Chapter 26: Under the Influence**

**Blake**

I always hated dating. Before and after Edie it was more of a chore than anything else; a means to an end. But here and now I feel weirdly excited, nervous even. Like a premier waiting in the wings for their first performance. With their best partner…

"Are we there yet?" Andie asks, taking my hand and weaving her fingers into mine.

The pavement pulses under our feet as we round a corner and I answer:

"_Si._"

Here lies a gritty set of steps, lined with wrought iron railing and leading down to a darkened doorway, from which rhythmic red light and sound emits. A man in black stands guard, watching us through opaque shades.

"_Who goes there?_" he mutters, tapping his clipboard.

"Don Quixote and Eva Peron."

"_Who?_" Andie asks as the bouncer looks up from his list, nods.

"Have a good night, folks," he says, stepping aside and pushing the door open...

Santa Maria is a basement bar, very expensive and vaguely exclusive. They ask that you pay your way at least a week in advance. Regulars are spared the TSA-style pat down that newcomers endure at the door and 'VIPs' are served by masked attendants in private rooms. Most of it is for show. But it's nice to go where nobody knows your name...

Andie squeals suddenly as flames erupt from behind the bar. "_Holy shit!_" I hear her exclaim over the music and cheering patrons. "_What was that?_"

"That would be Che," I say in her ear. "Bartender/fire eater."

"_Awesome_," she decides, wide-eyed and smiling. With that we weave our way towards the bar, wanting to get a better look. But by the time we squeeze through he's back to pouring drinks, sans shirt. After a second he spots me and waves.

"Hey! Don Quixote!" I smile wryly as he reaches out to grab my hand. "_What it do, man?_ We haven't seen you in a wh- _well, hello there_," he says, switching gears abruptly when he sees Andie. "_Who might you be, mamacita?_"

She laughs inaudibly, leaning over the bar. "_Eva Peron?_"

"Che, this is my _date_," I say, touching the small of her back.

He groans. "_Lucky bastard_. What can I get you two?"

"Dirty martini for me. Virgin Mary for her."

"_Virgin Mary?_ What is she, a teetotaler?"

"_No,_" Andie asserts, nudging me aside. "I'll have what he's having."

Che nods approvingly and goes to get glasses. While he's gone I tilt my head towards hers and remark, "The legal drinking age in Maryland is _21_."

"And the age of consent is _16_," she replies, pressing against me like a cat waiting to be stroked. "_18 _for teachers and students. They are nothing but numbers."

I narrow my eyes and bite back a smile as Che reappears. "_You're a bad influence_."

Andie winks over her glass. "_I try..._"

**_Andie_**

Of the few first dates I've been on, this has to be the bestest. Santa Maria is hot as hell, loud and darkly lit; like the inside of a dragon. And unlike anything I thought he'd be into. I say so as we drink at a table in the corner. Blake leans over to hear me better and I falter, feeling him breathe at my neck…

Might be the second martini, but I forgot what I wanted to say. So I kiss him instead, dizzy with the thrill of doing it in plain sight. I barely pull back before his arms wind round my waist, pressing me to him and…good God, did I just _swoon?_ Do people still swoon in this century…?

Blake breaks away abruptly, hovering over me as I try to catch another kiss.

"_What?_"

"_Listen_."

I huff impatiently, only half paying attention to whatever song just came on. But soon enough recognition sinks in, making me smile.

"_Do you love me_…from Dirty Dancing! I thought you never heard of it."

"If only…" he sighs. "Shall we?"

I nod and he leads me to the dancefloor, which is basically a musical orgy by now. Missy would _love_ this place, this sound. It feels like the heartbeat of some wild animal and everything civilized dies away as we dance to it…

I almost laugh at the thought of Director Collins being here. But Blake is a separate entity, moving in a way they do _not_ teach at MSA or the Royal Ballet...

"_Blake?_"

A hand appears over his shoulder, pulling him around and away from me. I feel myself go cold as we both realize that this is someone he knows.

"_Fischer_…"

"Blake! Are you on a _date?_"

The spectacled redhead peers round to get a better look at me. I stand frozen with fear (what if he knows Chase? what if he tells Chase we were here?)- but he just smiles and raises a glass, before turning back to Blake.

"_Thank God!_ I thought you might never get back in the water after…well, whatever, good for you! I'm on a date, too. It's Anthony's first night out as a big gay! I probably shouldn't leave him alone too long…"

And he walks away as abruptly as he appeared, not knowing the significance of what he just saw. Wordlessly, Blake turns to me and grabs my hand, moving towards the exit…

We got caught. We just got caught. And somehow we got away with it…

"_This is crazy_," says Blake, staring into the distance like a shell-shocked soldier… "_I_ am crazy. Why did I bring you here? Fischer introduced me to the place! I should've known he might show up…" He heads towards his car, still holding my hand. "I'm taking you home."

"What?"

"I'm not taking you to Texas."

"_What?_"

"I made a mistake. This is all wrong. You should be focusing on school, on your future, not sneaking around with me."

Shit, not this again… "Are you breaking up with me already?"

He says nothing and I stop walking, wrenching my hand out of his. "_Coward_," I snap, so angry I could breathe fire. "Fucking coward!" Blake slows down, turns round reluctantly. "We come all this way and you get cold feet now? You think ending it will erase everything? It won't!"

"Andie-"

"_I love you, Blake_." The words come so suddenly they seem to wind him. I feel a little breathless myself, but I keep going, braver for his fear. "I'm in love with you and you can't talk me out of it. If you could I wouldn't be here, screaming in the street like a lunatic. If you could I wouldn't be letting your brother go. And I _am_ letting him go, whether you love me or not."

Saying this stuff out loud is scary and sad. But as Blake makes his way back, staring like I'm a mirage, all I really feel is sure. More sure of us than anything else in my life.

"So…my place or yours?"

**Blake**

Falling in love is like hearing an amazing piece of music. It works its way into your head and heart and will. not. leave. Even when you want it to…

I felt this way with Edie; the heady need to be part of her and free of her all at once. With Andie it's better...and worse. I can't actually tell what it is because it's buried beneath layers of complicated...

But as she presses me back onto the bed and pulls me into her, I feel the words rising up from my chest, threatening to spill over…

_I love you, I love you, I_- fuck, _no_. Not now. It would be nothing but a hazy, alcoholic heat-of-the-moment thing, more dangerous than anything I've done to date. So I bite it back, barely breathing as she cries out…

For a blissful, post coital moment, I feel like we might be able to move on from the street fight. But then Andie curls up next to me, nuzzles my neck and sighs: "You didn't say it back."

"...saying it before sex seemed manipulative."

"What about after?"

I stare up at the stark ceiling, mapping out a way to approach this. "_Andie_..."

"_Stop_," she orders. "Stop overthinking this. And start enjoying it. That's why I'm trying to do. But you're harshing my buzz, babe."

"I don't mean to."

"Maybe you do."

Maybe I do. Maybe I'd rather push her away than watch her run. And she _will_ run, eventually. I'm not easy to love…

The phone rings just then and I know who it is (who else at this hour?) before I answer.

"_Fischer_."

"What the actual fuck! You go out on a date and I know nothing about it? If Che hadn't mentioned you I might never have known!"

"Well. Crisis averted," I say, turning to the date under discussion and running a hand through her hair.

"So who was she? Where did you meet her? And does she have an equally sexy brother?"

Andie snorts, clearly eavesdropping, and I shake my head at her. "Aren't you with Anthony?"

"I am," he sighs. "But baby gays are exhausting. Anyway, stop asking questions and start answering mine. Do you like her?"

Andie smiles slightly and I feel my heart swell, stretch tight in that painfully happy way. "I do."

"Will you see her again?"

"I don't know. She puts out on the first date, so not exactly marriage material."

Andie scowls, pinching my nipple. I wince and swat her away, as Fischer squeals on the other line.

"You mean you got _lucky? _About fucking time! How was it?"

"A gentleman never-"

"Whatever, I don't want to hear any nasty hetero sex stories anyway. Well done, man. _Tell me_ when you meet someone serious."

I wish I could...

"_Goodnight, Fischer_."

"_Night, slut_."

Andie laughs as I hang up. "He seems pretty cool. Would he approve of me, apart from the barely legal thing?"

"Probably. We may never know..."

She rolls her eyes at that and rests her head on my chest, smiling like she knows a lot more than I do…

_**Andie **_

I am not a big believer in Fate. In anything really. But when the sun seeps through the curtains, spilling over his bed and nudging me awake, I thank whatever power may be for getting me here. And I ask it to please, please, please let him love me back…

The sound and smell of breakfast lures me downstairs. When I walk into the kitchen, wearing a work shirt from his closet, he watches me smirkily before returning his attention to the stove.

"What's for eating?" I ask, sitting at the kitchen island.

"Oatmeal with apples and flax seeds."

"_Yum_," I mutter. "Do you have any real cereal?"

"This _is_ real cereal. Don't let the lack of sugar frosting fool you. And dancers are athletes," he adds when I roll my eyes. "You don't need to diet. But you _do_ have to eat right. Especially with the showcase coming up..."

"Yeah, okay, spare me the lecture, Director. It's a weekend. I want bacon and eggs and hash browns and-"

"_Bon appetit_," he says, sliding a bowl across the counter. "Your aunt can cook you that when we get to Texas."

"..._we_. You still coming?"

"If you still want me to," he shrugs, like he wasn't on the verge of backing out last night. "I think it would be nice...despite the circumstances...to get away for a while."

I nod slowly and look down, trying to hide my smile with a spoonful of gruel...it's actually pretty good.

**A/N: How funny is it (funny sad, not funny haha) that another Step Up movie has been made and released in the time it's taken me to finish this fic? I am both amused and annoyed at seeing this beloved franchise go on without Blake, Andie, Moose, etc…**

**But may they live forever in fanfiction! I think this is on schedule as far as finishing at Chapter 30, so hang in there please. The end is nigh...  
**


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: ****Happy 2013, dahlings. Hope that this year is better than the last...and that you can forgive me for dropping off again without warning. I lost someone important in 2012 and it just stunted me (with the exception of another fic, which was done beforehand). I fucking _hate_ endings...**

**But enough of that now! Only three chapters to go :) _Allons-y..._**

**Chapter 27: Riding in Cars with Boys**

**Blake**

Sarah starts to call me "Director Collins", stops herself and settles on "Blake" instead. She smiles, looking as unsure as I feel, while Charlie bounces round the room like a pinball...

This is the last place we met; in her home, when I was an actual authority figure that could be defined and understood...

"It helps to know Andie is in safe hands," she lies, doubt lining her eyes.

The truth is that neither of us knows who "Blake" is supposed to be right now, or why he should care enough to drive across the country with her dead friend's daughter.

"This must be a trying time for you," I say limply. "I felt compelled to help in any way possible."

"Well, we appreciate it. We really do..."

Andie barrels downstairs just then, duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

"_Bye_," she mutters, heading for the door.

But before she can reach it Sarah catches her hand, holding her back... "Will you be all right?"

She inhales- steeling herself- and turns round. "Yeah. I'll be back in a few days, okay? Don't go replacing me with some other orphan..."

In the car it occurs to me how much unfinished business we're leaving behind; her boyfriend, my brother, our school...the thought of it should induce a panic attack. But worrying about tomorrow feels like a waste of life. She needs me now. Everything else can wait...

**_Andie_**

We used to make this trip every summer or winter, before the fight. It was fun. Houston is a big city, lots of touristy stuff to keep kids busy. And there was a family history to things that would normally bore me; the hotel ballroom they took dance classes in, the swing set they buried broken toys under, the porch step they staged plays on...

They were pretty tight up 'til their teens, when they started to "grow in different directions". Mom was a free spirit, Aunt Jo was a devout student and each of their parents favored the other...

Then came my dad. He sang in some band and had "the temperament of a rock star but none of the talent". Jo hated him; Mom loved him– enough to move to Maryland. A few months later she got pregnant and he split...

Which was probably for the best. With their parents dead we were the only Wests left. And we had to stick together…

"So what went wrong?" Blake asks after a while.

"_Grant_," I mutter. "This accountant from Dallas. He was all stiff and moralistic in his brown suit– like a Bible salesman. My mom always called him Squarepants, which made me laugh. But it made _them_ mad so I stopped...

"They got engaged at Christmas and she raised a glass to 'Mrs Squarepants'. That must have been the breaking point 'cause Jo snapped, calling her petty and immature. Grant chipped in, saying she was just jealous because she had nothing to show for her life besides a 'bastard'. We left that night and never went back..."

"_Jesus_," Blake murmurs.

I snort halfheartedly. It was a pretty unholy moment for all involved...

"When Mom got sick Jo came down. But instead of bonding we clashed. She resented Sarah for stepping in all the time. She refused to let Tyler take me home after dark. She just didn't get our little band of bastards and unmarried mothers...but she stayed. And Grant paid for the funeral. I haven't seen either of them since."

Which suited me fine. I got through each day by _not_ thinking about it. Not visiting or reliving it. Until now...

Now I remember the roads and the diners and the old leather of her tin truck. The time we got restless and pulled over, dancing on the hard shoulder while Stevie Wonder sang "Higher Ground"…

All of a sudden I want to throw myself out of the car– or take the wheel and turn back to Baltimore. Anything to avoid whatever's waiting up ahead.

But then Blake looks at me with this…certainty in his eyes. Like it could be okay. Like he'll make it okay.

I reach out to hold his hand, feeling weaker and stronger all at once…

**Blake**

_I love you, I love you, I_...the words stick in my throat, nearly choking me. I force them down and tell myself that now is not the time. Now is the worst possible time...

A cynic might suggest that she was right that night. I _am_ a coward. I reason my way out of feeling things too deeply, loving people too much. Edie comes to mind like a hologram and all of a sudden I wish she was here. Somehow she got this, long before I did...

Andie grabs my hand abruptly, her eyes glazed over with panic, and I remember that she's not asking for anything. She just needs me to be here...

Four hours into our trek, sporadic office buildings, tire shops and gas stations start to spring up along the highway.

"_Roanoke_," she remarks, seemingly from memory. The route mapped out online should lead us through Virginia, Alabama and Louisiana, none of which I've ever been to. Probably because they seemed kind of country and I could never survive outside the city. At any rate, we won't be sticking arou-

"Oooh, can we stop at that hotel?"

"No. Why?"

"_Because hotels have buffets?_" she grins winningly.

"And I have food in the cooler."

"_Ugh_," she groans. "No healthy eating right now! Please, Blake. We can rest stop there, refuel and head out in the a.m. _Please..._?"

I glance over and wonder if this is her stalling; delaying the inevitable. If so I have to let her, despite the Director in me advising against it...

The Madison Inn is a stocky red-brick building with stone steps leading up to broad white doors. We grab our bags and head up the driveway, Andie hurrying like I might change my mind at any minute...

"_Welcome!_" says the receptionist. "You must be our newlyweds."

I feel my face redden as Andie side-eyes me. "Uh...we are _not_."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, adjusting his glasses like he needs to see us better. "We _were_ expecting another couple...are you a couple?"

Andie nudges under my arm, wrapping hers around me. It feels weirdly exhilarating, touching without restraint... "Yeah," I answer. "We are."

"All righty. Do you have a reservation?"

"No, we just wanted to stop over for the night, if there's room."

"Hm...let me see..." He wakes up the dormant computer and scans its contents briefly. "We do have a single available, but it'll cost a little extra, being so last minute and all..."

Her fingers dance along the edge of my jeans, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake...and staying the night suddenly seems like a great idea.

"We'll take it."

**_Andie_**

This place is swankier than I thought it would be; hardwood floors and a thick rug and a fat white bed that I jump on after dumping my bag at the door. Blake picks it up and puts it in a corner with his, before stretching out next to me. He says nothing for a while and I think about how accustomed he is to schedules. Deviating probably makes him uneasy. And being asked to fork out for hotel rooms at random is really inconvenient- inconsiderate even...

I just needed to stop for a second. I hope he gets that... "_Sorry_."

"For what?"

"_This_," I say, sitting up to face him. "All of this. I know it's costing you a lot."

"_It is_," he says, leaning forward from the headboard. "It's costing time and money and energy and if I could spend it all on you I would. Without hesitation or regret I would..."

There was a moment, after my spiel outside the club, when I wondered if I made a mistake. Maybe I just _thought_ I loved him. Maybe it was the drinking and the fighting and the heightened state we'd been in since that first kiss.

But I know now. Nothing could feel bigger or better than this. Knowing that you love and are loved, without being told.

"_Andie_-"

I kiss him quiet, climbing into his lap and tossing my shirt. I want to hold on to this- this tiny pocket of time before everything else comes flooding back in...

"_Dinner started an hour ago,_" he points out, stripping off his sweater.

I laugh distractedly, more concerned with getting him out of these jeans. We'll eat whatever's in the cooler...

**A/N: I think _I_ might be delaying the inevitable, holding these guys hostage instead of letting them go. And letting you guys go...**

**Did I mention how much I fucking hate endings?!**


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